


Hold back the day

by apathyinreverie



Series: Tipping the scales [3]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Alec Lightwood, BAMF Magnus Bane, Canon Divergence - 1x09, Developing Relationship, Fix-It, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Powerful Magnus Bane, Romance, Salt, What-If
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:13:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26036950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apathyinreverie/pseuds/apathyinreverie
Summary: Thing is, Magnus has never been one for half-hearted devotion, and the question of whether his feelings are actually requited or not has never once factored into it for him. He’s not about to change that now.-Or, what if Magnus hadn’t been able to bring himself to steal Alec’s stele?
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Series: Tipping the scales [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1652476
Comments: 455
Kudos: 742





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [smile_and_wink](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smile_and_wink/gifts).



> For the lovely **smile_and_wink** for all the wonderful discussions and the never-ending, ever-more-intricate conversations about worldbuilding and magical theory and so on which absolutely make my day on a regular basis <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the full-fic version of ‘Safeguard’ from ‘Tipping the scales’. The first chapter is the exact same as in the collection, everything after is new.

Magnus feels a frown forming on his face as he watches Alexander through the wood paneling in the hallway.

Alexander who is in the room beyond the wall Magnus just made perfectly see-through – at least to himself – and who is poking at the wound on his arm, shirt mostly off, wincing in pain as he pulls off the rather shoddily applied bandage on his wound, vulnerable in this moment of thinking himself alone with no one around to see, no one to hide himself from.

Magnus winces in sympathetic pain as he watches Alexander trying to clean up the wound, wanting nothing more than to join him, step into the room and once more offer his help in healing him.

You know, instead of sneakily watching to find the best point in time to steal his stele for Jace to break into his parabatai’s safe with.

Which is just…

Magnus feels the frown on his face darkening. He already knows he won’t go through with it, won’t take Alexander’s stele, won’t give Jace the chance to steal the Cup.

Whether Alexander decided to get engaged to someone else or not.

Something about the way Jace and Izzy threw that little tidbit of information into the conversation while trying to convince Magnus to help them, the way they had told Magnus about their brother’s engagement to Lydia Branwell, added it in with such casual, righteous anger. Like Alexander deciding to marry someone else should somehow make Magnus more willing to help them, like it should make him want to get some sort of petty revenge on Alexander in turn, just for apparently not returning Magnus’ interest. At least not to the point Magnus had almost let himself hope. Not enough to make a difference.

Like their brother somehow deserves to be punished for making that decision.

It honestly angered him, hearing them talk so callously about a decision their brother so clearly made for everybody’s sake _but_ his own. Magnus doesn’t approve of the decision itself – even setting his own interest for things to go differently aside – because he’s seen this play out so many times before, has seen so many people, so many of his own friends make that choice before, choose their loyalties over their own happiness.

Don’t get him wrong. Not every arranged or political marriage ends in misery, not at all. With both parties aware what exactly they are agreeing to, most arrangements like that start and end neutrally, and he’s even seen some of them turn out rather well. Still, those are the good ones, the ones which don’t breed resentment, the ones that aren’t full of regrets.

Either way, even in the best cases, tying oneself to another for _other_ people’s sake very rarely leads to any sort of happiness.

And that’s really all Magnus wishes for Alexander. Happiness.

Happiness which very much doesn’t include Alexander finding himself betrayed by the two people he so very clearly trusts most in this world.

Sure, there had been a moment, a few seconds right when Jace and Izzy had tried to sell the idea of their plan to him, where Magnus had honestly considered helping them.

If only because their plan also very much includes them freeing Meliorn before the seelie can be taken to Idris, something which Magnus wishes on no Downworlder and especially not on someone like Meliorn who is just high-up enough within the Seelie Queen’s court to actually have information the Clave might consider worth torturing out of him. As the Clave likely realized, or there simply wouldn’t be enough reason for them to risk pissing off the Seelie Queen by arresting one of her knights otherwise.

So, the idea of helping the Shadowhunters steal the Cup in order to give them enough incentive to then free Meliorn – you know, since they will have burned all their bridges with the Clave, the Institute, and their brother by that point anyway – had honestly been tempting.

For all of a second.

But then, the thought of Alexander inevitably finding out about the betrayal – not so much Magnus’ involvement, since that will likely seem _utterly negligible_ in comparison to Izzy and Jace’s betrayal – made the breath in Magnus’ own chest stutter in empathic pain.

Once Alexander realizes what his siblings did… It will break his heart.

Magnus just can’t do that to him.

Not to even mention that there is also something about the fact that even while planning to betray their brother and parabatai, _even then_ , Izzy and Jace still asked for the easy way, for Magnus to magic them their way around Alec’s vigilance, for someone else to take part of the responsibility.

Magnus has never been much of a fan of cowardice. In any form.

And, yes, hearing that Alexander decided to propose to Lydia, right when Magnus had thought the two of them were finally getting a little closer, Alexander finally softening some of his defenses around him, opening up to Magnus about his struggles and his thoughts, actually asking him for his opinions on things… It hurt. More than it should, really, considering they really haven’t known each other for all that long.

But what little time they spent together was apparently more than enough for Magnus’ heart to do what it always does, namely become utterly and hopelessly attached.

Thing is, Magnus has never been one for half-hearted devotion and the question whether his feelings are actually requited has never once factored into it for him.

So. Standing in the hallway, watching Alexander trying to take care of the Forsaken wound on his arm that he got while trying to protect his Institute from an intruder, wincing all the while, obviously in pain, Magnus knows there is no way he can go through with actually breaking Alexander’s trust so very thoroughly by taking his stele.

To the contrary.

He is rather determined to make sure no one else does either, if only to protect Alexander from the pain of realizing that his siblings ever intended anything of the sort.

+++

Alec glances up at the sudden knock on the door, so absolutely not in the mood to deal with anyone at all at the moment, about to refuse entry to whoever might be on the other side.

But before he gets the chance to say anything at all the door is already opening, Magnus fluidly stepping inside, not waiting for his response, eyes on Alec even as he closes the door behind himself.

Alec doesn’t even have it in himself to protest, instead watches almost resignedly as Magnus carefully - but still so very gracefully - crosses the room towards him.

 _Of course it would be Magnus_ , Alec thinks, tries for exasperated but ends up with that odd but wonderful mixture of warmth and excited happiness that he always seems to get when seeing the warlock. He so wishes it weren’t quite as wonderful a feeling as it tends to be.

“I thought I’d offer my help with healing that wound once more,” Magnus says even as he reaches Alec where he is still sitting back against the table.

Because of course he would insist on healing Alec. Of course Alec rejecting his offer of help once wasn’t enough to deter him. Because when has Magnus ever done anything other than exactly that – help in any way he could without ever demanding anything in return – ever since they met.

Earlier, when Magnus had offered his help after re-tuning the wards – you know, right after Alec’s father had stomped off with that wonderfully petty comment that would honestly have done a pouting toddler proud about how Lydia would take care of the bill – Alec had outright refused to let Magnus heal him, practically ran away as quickly as he could.

But every time he so much as thinks about being alone with Magnus, of being in a position where he can’t reasonably avoid talking to Magnus anymore, he can feel something almost like panic tightening in his chest.

Because, he hasn’t told Magnus yet. Magnus doesn’t _know_ , is offering him help without any idea that things have changed so significantly since they last talked.

Just yesterday when Alec told Magnus things he has never spoken aloud before, likely won’t ever again. About his disappointment with the Clave and his parents and the crushing realization that he has been giving all of himself for them, for their cause, only to be repaid in hypocrisy and double-standards and lies.

And Magnus had listened, so openly and attentively, before suggesting softly that maybe Alec should start living for himself, to do what’s in his heart.

Magnus had said it so simply, so easily.

Not like Izzy tends to when she tells Alec that he can’t just continue living for others. Or like Jace who usually just asks Alec rather confusedly why he is doing just that. And certainly not like his mother, who takes every sacrifice he makes like it is a given and then only ever demands more.

No, Magnus said it like it was an honest suggestion, like it was an actual, conscious, _valid_ choice he could make. Not like Alec was doing anything wrong or even doing anything right by living for others. But rather like it was an actual decision to do either.

A choice. For or against.

A suggestion which, instead of taking it as it had clearly been intended, Alec had then twisted into justification to propose to Lydia. Which is, admittedly, neither doing what’s in his heart nor living for himself.

But it was still a choice, a choice he made consciously and fully aware of what it entailed. A choice that will ensure he will get to hold on to all the things he worked so hard for over the years, no matter his family’s various screw-ups.

A choice he hasn’t actually told Magnus about yet.

And here the warlock is again offering his help so very freely. As he always does.

“May I?” Magnus is asking, already reaching out, hand lifted towards his arm. But not quite touching without Alec’s explicit permission.

And earlier when Magnus offered his help, Alec just brushed him aside, rather aggressively so, simply because he is turning out to be more of a coward about having this conversation than he himself had thought. But they are already alone now, just the two of them, and it’s really time Alec stops avoiding this.

So, he just nods at Magnus’ question, gives up on his denial, lowers his own hand from where he had been trying to clean the cut.

He sees Magnus’ lips tilting up slightly, obvious relief at Alec letting him heal the wound, even as his magic instantly flickers to life between his fingers, smoothly covering the gash, soothingly cool against the inflamed wound.

Alec tries not to watch Magnus weaving his magic too intently, tries not to stare.

There is something so fluid and graceful and casually powerful in the way Magnus molds his magic, always has been. It is rather breathtaking to watch.

 _I don’t have that right any longer_ , he reminds himself with a frown. _I’m engaged. I do not get to stare at other people anymore just because I decided to marry someone I know I will never be able to love._

There are several moments of silence between them, Magnus healing him and Alec losing some of his tension at the pain quickly seeping out of his arm.

“And how are you doing with everything, Alexander?” Magnus finally asks into the quiet, voice so careful, like he doesn’t quite know what sort of reaction to expect.

Alec almost wants to wince at the tone, the care in it, the caution.

He can’t even blame Magnus. Alec is fully aware that he himself is the one who keeps jumping back and forth between acting like there couldn’t possibly ever be anything between them, but then flipping right around to seek Magnus out for drinks or advice or for pouring out his heart and entrusting him with parts of himself that he hasn’t shared with anyone, forgetting to hide how much the warlock’s opinion means to him. It’s a wonder Magnus hasn’t already gotten tired of the whiplash Alec keeps giving him with his back and forth.

Alec wants to sigh out tiredly, honestly wishing he could just go back to the days where his biggest problem was his own uncertainty whether he might not be in love with his parabatai, the one person he knew full-well was utterly unattainable, and thus the absolute safest person for Alec to fixate on while knowing nothing would ever come of it.

Things were simple then.

Alec misses it rather desperately.

He glances up at Magnus who is still watching him, sees the way the warlock’s eyes have shuttered slightly at his silence, apparently having accepted that Alec has done yet another flip where the two of them are concerned and is once more back to his I-deny-everything persona.

 _He doesn’t deserve this_ , Alec thinks to himself.

And if nothing else, Alec at least owes it to Magnus to tell him about his engagement himself.

 _Damnit all,_ he thinks frustrated at his own hesitance. _I had the guts to get down on one knee and propose to someone I know I am never going to love and who I know is never going to love me either._ _Telling Magnus should be easy in comparison._

Except it isn’t.

There is something in Alec that doesn’t want to tell Magnus about his engagement at all, a part of him that wants to keep his impending wedding from the warlock for as long as he possibly can. Because once he does, once he tells Magnus, all of _this_ will be over.

Magnus who saw Alec in that club, at that rave, and who has never really looked away since.

Magnus who seems so honestly, genuinely delighted every time he gets to spend time with Alec. Who has made his interest in Alec more than clear, has quite literally spelled it out for him, told him with utter, straightforward honesty that he is interested in Alec, would like to see whether there could be something more between them.

Telling Magnus about his engagement somehow makes it final in Alec’s mind. More final than actually proposing. More final than Lydia saying yes. More final than his parents finding out or telling his siblings.

And maybe that really should tell him something. Then again, none of this is actual news to him.

Alec breathes in, briefly clenches his teeth as he braces himself, and then just comes straight out with it.

“I’m getting married,” he announces, glad to hear that his voice comes out steady, even if his fingers twitch against the tabletop with anxiety.

There is a pause as Magnus glances up at him, meets his eyes.

“I heard,” the warlock then nods calmly, fingers still in endless winding motions as he molds his magic. “Your siblings mentioned it.”

Alec blinks.

 _Oh_ , he thinks, utterly taken aback. A second, two. Then, he can feel a scowl forming on his face. _Well, isn’t it just **wonderful** of them to have this rather personal discussion about my personal business with the one person who definitely deserved hearing about this from me in person in my stead then_.

And, yep, the anger is definitely back.

Ever since they found out about his engagement, his siblings have made their disapproval more than clear. More than that. They have been acting like Alec _personally offended_ them by proposing to Lydia.

All the while neither of them has yet to think to ask him _why_ he made that choice, why he thought that allying their family with Lydia’s is the only way he can see out of this mess. Izzy and Jace are too busy with their disapproval of his choices to even ask him for his reasons, to ask him what might be going on with him. And angel forbid they ever consider whether their own recent actions might possibly have contributed to Alec finding himself so very, utterly stuck.

Everything about their reaction to his engagement pisses him off.

In front of him, Magnus is still watching him, still standing somewhat close, even if only so he can reach his shoulder, hand hovering over his upper arm, as he manipulates his magic to heal Alec.

“I get it, Alec,” Magnus then says. “I get what you’re doing and why you’re doing it. I understand. I even find your willingness to give up so much of yourself for the sake of your family rather admirable.”

Alec watches him right back, waiting, knowing there is more, almost _desperate_ for there to be more.

Because for all Alec has been denying this thing between them as much as he possibly could, having Magnus suddenly so willing to step back, not at all protesting the idea of Alec’s engagement, suddenly conceding that he should be with someone else, seemingly just accepting that they shouldn’t be together, is rather… discomfiting. Heartbreaking, almost.

 _How wonderful_ , he thinks incredulously. _The one person to get it, to understand my choice, is the one person I don’t necessarily want to approve of my engagement at all_.

Magnus tilts his head the slightest bit, smiles, not quite softly, not nearly as openly warm as usual, but not reluctant or particularly stiff either. It’s kind and somewhat resigned. A brief smile. Fleeting and bittersweet.

“I just think we could have had something,” the warlock then adds, voice low, like an admission made in secret, just for the two of them.

And, yeah. They likely could have.

“I think so, too,” Alec admits lowly, for the first time since they met actually acknowledging out loud that there was ever anything between them at all, that there is potential there which even Alec - for all his inexperience and obliviousness - can feel.

The admission has Magnus obviously falter for a second, blinking at Alec, clearly surprised. Because Alec is apparently that sort of self-centered idiot who somehow managed to give off the impression that he might not return Magnus’ interest at all.

“I do think so,” Alec finds himself repeating, voice low. “I just…” he trails off, doesn’t know how to finish that sentence.

The small, rather devastatingly sad smile playing around Magnus’ lips now says the warlock understands anyway.

“I understand,” Magnus returns. “I really do.”

“But?” Alec can’t help but ask, hoping for something that doesn’t sound quite as much like actual approval of Alec’s choice.

 _Turns out, I rather liked having a pretty warlock chasing after me_ , Alec thinks sad and sardonic and resigned at the same time.

“But,” Magnus picks up Alec’s leading not-quite-question. “I’ve been where you are, made my own choices. And I’ve seen other people in that same position, have seen some of them make the exact choice you are making now.”

He pauses, lowers his hand from Alec’s shoulder, the wound apparently healed now, never mind that Alec had kind of forgotten about it, about that being the reason they are here at all right now, why Alec isn’t wearing a shirt, or why Magnus is standing so close to him.

“I’ve seen this many times before and I do understand the choice you are making,” Magnus repeats, gaze drifting into the middle distance for a few moments, clearly remembering something. Before he focuses on Alec once more. “But I also know that it so very rarely leads to any sort of happiness for anyone involved.”

He says it in a way that tells Alec the warlock isn’t expecting that argument to in any way change Alec’s mind, doesn’t expect Alec’s happiness to even factor into it for him.

And he is right.

Because that’s just it, isn’t it. Alec’s happiness based on what _he_ wants was never really on the table.

For all that everyone – his mother, his sister, his own parabatai – keeps claiming they want what’s best for him, either by way of having him sacrifice everything for his family or by demanding he do nothing of the sort, when was the last time anyone thought to actually ask Alec what he wants, what he thinks would make him _happy_.

Well, aside from Magnus of course.

Because that’s just how his life is turning out.

Alec breathes out, honestly wants to close his eyes, just wants to shut out the world for a little while, utterly exhausted, so very tired of having the one person who seems to get it, to get _him_ , also be the one person he can’t actually have.

+++

Magnus leaves the Institute behind, a frown forming on his face the moment he steps outside, away from the many distrustfully watchful eyes.

He didn’t take Alexander’s stele, didn’t pass it on to Jace to use.

The window has passed and the Mortal Cup is still secure in Alexander’s safe.

Magnus twirls his fingers, a portal springing up in front of him for him to step through to his loft, immediately moving towards his study.

Thankfully, Magnus didn’t run into the trio whose wonderfully destructive plan he so effectively voided with that one decision while on his way out of Institute. He really isn’t in the mood to even pretend like he feels any need whatsoever to defend himself against the accusations of three still-in-their-teens Shadowhunters at the moment.

Let them fret over not getting everything they want just handed to them. If anything they should be grateful that Magnus made it impossible for them to betray Alexander so utterly.

He can’t claim he has made his peace with Alexander’s engagement, a part of him very much insisting that he try again, that there is still a chance, that he might still be able to actually have Alexander as he’d almost let himself hope at one point.

But that chance is likely going disappear anyway with what Magnus is planning to do next.

Freeing Meliorn.

Sure, Magnus will make utterly certain that there won’t be any actual evidence linking him to the rescue - you know, since he has absolutely no interest in being dragged to Idris for a trial - but there is a good chance that Alexander will suspect Magnus’ involvement anyway. Which is likely going to put a very effective end to any even vaguely positive relationship they might still have had.

He doesn’t know whether the Shadowhunter actually picked up on the fact that Magnus’ goodbye this time around was a little more final than it usually tends to be between them. But even if he did, Alexander likely assumes it’s his engagement that has Magnus planning to keep his distance from now on.

And once he goes through with Meliorn’s rescue, Alexander likely won’t want anything to do with Magnus anymore anyway.

However, he thinks that the disappointment Alexander will possibly feel at Magnus going behind his back is still an excellent alternative to the utter heartbreak his siblings’ planned betrayal would cause him.

Either way, springing Meliorn himself is sadly still the best solution Magnus has been able to come up with.

His other choices are letting things proceed without interfering, which means Alexander getting his heart broken due to his siblings’ betrayal when they attack the transport, or telling Alexander about his siblings’ plan ahead of time, which however won’t mitigate any of the heartbreak for Alexander and will additionally leave Meliorn stuck as a prisoner.

So, freeing Meliorn before the prisoner transport ever gets to the planned ambush site it is.

It’s not the best of scenarios and he generally likes to avoid getting involved in this sort of thing, if only because going directly and openly against the Clave is rarely a good idea.

But.

He in no way intends to actually give his personal involvement away. All they’ll have to go on is the fact that there was a warlock involved at all. But nothing beyond that. And Magnus himself will be first in line to protest any unjust accusations the Clave might try to start throwing around while searching for the warlock responsible.

Thankfully, the Clave will be perfectly aware that the combination of Magnus shielding his warlocks and even just the potential of the Seelie Queen backing him due to Meliorn’s involvement, the Clave had better bring an airtight case if they want to accuse anyone, lest they promptly find themselves facing off against half of the Downworld in protest.

Still, Magnus quickly strides over to his desk in the study to send out messages to his warlocks in and around the city, a warning for them to stay low for a while, to avoid all Shadowhunters as best they can, not wanting any of his own people to be caught in the immediate crossfire.

Of course, Magnus makes sure not to implicate himself in said messages, doesn’t so much as allude to the very-much-still-in-the-future rescue he is planning. But instead he cautions his people based on the Clave’s recent decision to arrest Meliorn at all, includes a comment about how the Clave is clearly overstepping the Accords, and it would be best for his people to lay low in case this particular arrest might start a trend in the coming days.

He knows his people will heed the warning.

The rescue itself doesn’t really need much planning. That part will be easy.

He’ll have to wait until the prisoner transport leaves the Institute, but that is pretty much all. One step outside the Institute’s wards, and that will be it.

Thankfully, Meliorn knows him well enough to recognize his magic and the seelie’s connection to the earth itself is strong enough for him to easily confirm Magnus’ identity to himself once he knows Magnus is there. So, it should be enough to simply have his magic brush up against Meliorn’s senses in order to give him a heads-up.

Freeing Meliorn will be a simple thing of creating a distraction to give Meliorn a chance to rip himself loose and a portal for the seelie to disappear through. That’s literally it.

The entire rescue should be done within a couple of seconds and not involve any sort of bloodshed. Because a bloodless rescue of a prisoner the Clave had no right actually arresting? That’s the exact sort of thing the Clave likes to sweep under the rug, pretend like it never happened in the first place, lest they lose face by admitting how easily they were bested.

The one thing about the entire plan that pains him is the fact that he knows Alexander himself will be leading the team transporting Meliorn to Idris. Magnus is still hoping that particular arrangement will be changed, if only to spare Alexander the reprimand for losing a prisoner under his watch.

But even if Alexander is there, this is still the best solution to the utter mess they are all in that Magnus has been able to come up with. It’s the best he can do.

He already voided Jace’s plan to break into Alexander’s safe, so the Mortal Cup remains where it was. And if Meliorn isn’t a captive any longer, then there won’t be any need for Izzy to stage the attack on the transport.

So, even if Magnus will have to stay away from now on, if he has to avoid the Institute in general and a certain Shadowhunter in particular, at least Alexander will be spared the heartbreak of ever knowing about his siblings’ plan at all, hopefully won’t ever find out just how far his siblings were prepared to go in order to get their way.

And that will just have to be enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oookay. So, I know Alec’s headspace in this is a little different from how I usually write him but this is how I see his inner turmoil during that brief phase that canon so happily glossed over for his character, right in-between having the rug pulled out from under him where his parents are concerned, quickly losing faith in the institution he built his entire life around, his parabatai drifting away from him, and everything he ever worked for slipping through his fingers. And thus, him ending up with his not-so-great solution of proposing to Lydia, because he simply couldn’t see a different way out. 
> 
> Also, I watched this particular episode all of once, decided I hated it, and have since refused to acknowledge it even exists, but now I can’t for the life of me remember why they decided to transport the high-profile prisoner all across the city instead of just portaling to Idris from inside the Institute. Anyone able to help me out? If they didn’t give a reason in canon it’s also fine, I got an explanation ready, but I was just wondering whether the show had its own reasoning behind that particular bit of rather… questionable decision-making.
> 
> And, yes, there will be angst in this but, no matter what I may have alluded to in this chapter, the angst will be very much between Alec and his siblings and not at all between Malec. Because, no. Just. No. XD
> 
> Would love to know what you think :D


	2. Chapter 2

Alec knows there is something going on.

The entire day, he’s spotted Jace and Izzy whispering angrily to each other in the corners of the ops center or in abandoned hallways, falling silent the moment they spotted Alec watching them. And now the two of them seem to have disappeared entirely to angel-knows-where, taking their red-haired limpet with them.

It almost makes him want to sigh in a mixture of exasperation and disappointment and endless frustration. And also, relief.

Because, at this point? If given a choice, Alec honestly doesn’t even want to know where they might have disappeared to or what exactly they are planning, simply hoping that they aren’t creating yet another disaster for him to deal with later on, but also glad they don’t seem to plan on once more cornering him somewhere to start their argument about Meliorn or about the Cup or even a combination of the two – because conflating those two utterly separate issues makes ever-so-much sense – anew.

He scoffs. _Like I actually have a choice in any of this._

Alec knows Izzy and Jace are still furious with him for not going along with their take on things and even knows that they are planning something - whatever that ‘something’ may be - but for once they seem to be leaving him out of it and, with as much as he already has on his plate at the moment, he is honestly rather grateful for it. He simply doesn’t have the time to deal with yet another of their but-we-had-the-best-of-intentions plans.

Well, it certainly _would_ have been nice if either of them had actually deigned to offer him their help for once, maybe to take on some of the truly ludicrous amount of work he is currently struggling with…

 _But_ , he thinks to himself sardonically. _At least they aren’t taking up even more of my time at the moment by ambushing me with yet another argument._

Alec knows Izzy and Jace don’t see things like he does, never have. The two of them have never accepted that being a Shadowhunter is more than just killing demons, more than simply protecting the world from easily identified evil, never having quite lost the rather childish black and white view of good-versus-evil that demon-hunting tends to provide you with so readily.

Thing is, Alec even agrees with their protests in this particular instance, absolutely detests that he has to take Meliorn to the City of Bones. He even said as much to Magnus earlier when it was just the two of them, Magnus healing him, careful with him – his wounds and everything else about him – in a way Alec doesn’t think anyone has ever been before. And, in that moment, after having let himself be so honest already about so many things he hadn’t admitted before, in that safe bubble of confessions and admissions, Alec had let himself admit how much he detests the fact that his hands are so thoroughly bound in Meliorn’s matter, that Alec simply doesn’t have a choice but do as demanded of him, that for once he is powerless to do anything about it.

If Alec had known about the order to arrest Meliorn beforehand, if he had still been the one running the Institute, he’d have been able to do something about it. If only by way of phrasing the message intended to lure Meliorn to the Institute in such a way that the seelie would have _known_ something was up and would never have followed the summons in the first place.

But, as competent as Lydia absolutely is, she also clearly hasn’t run an Institute before. In direct contrast to Alec, who has years of practice in ‘misunderstanding’ rather clearly phrased orders given by the Clave _just so_ to let him prevent everything from escalating too far and putting the peace in his own city at risk.

However, Alec only found out about the Clave order once things were already over and done with, when Meliorn had already been lured to the Institute under false pretenses and had already been arrested. By then, there had been little Alec could still do. Or rather, nothing at all.

Most frustratingly, he knows that the supposed charges for Meliorn’s arrest are fabricated, knows the Clave doesn’t really think that the seelies have collectively been selling them out to Valentine, and they most certainly don’t believe that Meliorn is disloyal to his own queen. Quite the opposite. Alec suspects that the Clave took Izzy’s various reports, read between the lines, and realized that Meliorn might actually know enough to be worth squeezing for information, that he might just be close enough to the Faerie Queen to make it worth it but not quite one of her truly treasured knights, an attack on whom is likely to start a war the very instant the Clave dared move against them.

If Alec has been able to infer as much from Izzy’s reports, the Clave likely has as well.

Or, and this is possibly an even worse option, maybe all of this might even turn out to be a ploy with the explicit purpose of creating unrest within New York. Having the local Institute arresting a Downworlder without justified cause, having them go directly against the accords... In all honesty, Alec wouldn’t even be surprised if Valentine himself were to turn out to be the one pulling strings behind the scenes, trying to upset the already fragile balance within New York.

It’s why he got such a big team together to lead Meliorn to the entrance to the City of Bones. Usually, he’d assign four people at most for something as simple as a prisoner transport, but Alec needs to make sure that Valentine might not be planning to attack them along the way. If there is an ambush and Meliorn is somehow killed by a seraph blade while in Shadowhunter custody before he is ever taken to Idris for at least a pretend-trial to determine his guilt, it won’t matter whether the Circle was behind the murder, New York might honestly have a war at their hands come morning.

And all of that is before they even make it to the City of Bones. Once they actually get Meliorn to the Silent Brothers, there are still so many different ways for things to go catastrophically wrong. Once the Clave tries their hand at squeezing information out of the seelie they have in custody. Never mind that someone like Meliorn, a knight of the Seelie Court, will likely sooner kill himself than risk betraying his queen.

It wouldn’t be the first time a Downworlder kills themselves in the Silent City’s holding cells out of loyalty to their own kind, refusing to let the Clave draw every tidbit of information they can out of them. And Alec is afraid that Meliorn might turn out to be exactly that sort of Downworlder.

Who’ll grin broadly and vindictively, even as he slits his own throat.

Alec is perfectly aware of all of this. It’s the reason why he’d never have gone through with arresting Meliorn in the first place if he’d still been in the position to make that call.

Because, the really screwed up part about all of this?

If Alec hadn’t given his siblings so much leeway these past few weeks to freely create their many disasters around New York, if he’d put his foot down on them messing with so many Downworld factions, then Alec himself would likely still have the weight within Alicante to protest the current situation. There is a _reason_ why whoever is behind demanding Meliorn be brought in, is doing so now. Because the Lightwoods have lost standing, the Institute currently isn’t directly under Lightwood leadership, and Alec simply doesn’t have the pull to fix this as he usually would have.

Which, according to his siblings, is somehow also his fault. Because, of course, it is.

Angel forbid they ever think beyond their own tiny, rather aggravatingly naïve perception of the world.

And Alec honestly wants to shake Izzy, wants to ask her - if she really is so very furious about Meliorn being arrested at all - why isn’t she making an actual fuss about it. You know, beyond whining about it to her older brother. Why isn’t she in Idris right now, making her protests known, throwing the weight of the Lightwood name around – diminished as it may be – to put herself behind the seelie.

Why is this sort of thing always entirely up to Alec?

Why do Izzy and Jace honestly seem think that the world owes them something, or rather that _Alec_ owes it to them to bend the world to their every whim. The way they are acting they really seem to think that the sole hurdle standing in their way of getting what they want is Alec. Like getting him to agree with them – which he, by the way, already does – will somehow, miraculously fix everything.

Because that’s the childlike view his siblings apparently have of the world.

As frustrated as he is with their way of handling things ever since Clary showed up, Alec isn’t even entirely surprised. Clary Fray who not only wonderfully matches Izzy and Jace’s so very naïve, limited view of the world perfectly, but also appeals to Jace’s protective instincts and Izzy’s wish for female friends able to keep up with her?

Of course they’d follow along with her agenda, even feel wonderfully righteous about the things they are doing because they do have the best of intentions. But somehow, the very real catastrophes they are _un_ intentionally leaving in their wake don’t seem to be of any note to them.

By the angel, Alec is tired of cleaning up their messes, more often than not unable to fully smooth over their last disaster before they have already created a new one - or three - for him to deal with.

He sighs exhaustedly, then waves away Lydia’s concerned look from where she is about to see off his team about to transport Meliorn to the City of Bones.

Lydia is on the exact same page as he is, utterly disagrees with the Clave’s heavy-handed interference that only serves to put additional stress on the already rather delicate balance within New York’s Shadowworld. Just because someone within the Clave thinks themselves oh-so-clever for wanting to interrogate one of the Seelie Queen’s knights.

Alec hates that he doesn’t have a choice in this, hates that he has no leverage to make it better, hates that his parents’ history and his siblings’ recent messes have tied his hands so thoroughly he is simply powerless to do anything but follow the orders he is given. In the vague hope that following this particular Clave order to the letter will give his presence there - making it very, unmistakably clear that the Lightwood family sees the arrest of one of their informants as a personal issue - enough weight to at least ensure that Meliorn will safely make it out of Idris again.

Meliorn is a Lightwood informant and their recent loss of standing or not, Alec will make it perfectly clear that he expects the seelie to still be perfectly alright for Alec to take him back to New York by the time the Clave is done questioning him.

He knows it’s not much by way of protections but, sadly, it’s all Alec can offer at the moment.

He wants to sigh again, but instead schools his face, briefly clenches his teeth, even as he gestures for his team to start moving, towards the entrance leading outside, reaching out to grasp Meliorn’s upper arm, Raj doing the same on the other side as his team moves as one.

The very moment they step beyond the doors, onto the grass surrounding the Institute, Alec feels it.

_Magnus._

One step outside of the wards and Alec immediately feels Magnus nearby.

It’s nothing new. Alec has been fully aware of his new-found ability to ‘feel’ Magnus ever since they did that energy sharing thing a few days ago when Magnus was healing Luke, and Magnus had been drawing on Alec’s strength offered freely, the connection between them bright and iridescent in Alec’s mind, reaching into him, through him, towards that center of resolve and hard-won assuredness and uncompromising loyalty that Alec bases his entire sense of self on, Magnus’ power seeming to almost curl around it, around that very core of himself, drawing some of it out, letting itself be coaxed by the tendrils of Magnus’ magic, warmth and power and _lifelightheat_ pervading Alec’s senses.

It had been breathtaking.

And afterwards, the ability to ‘feel’ Magnus never really went away.

Not that Alec ever mentioned it anyone, much less to Magnus himself.

A decision which had absolutely nothing to do with how much Alec likes the feeling of it, the soft curls of magic, the way Magnus’ very presence makes some part of him feel safe in a way that he’s never had before, like he could let himself fall and wouldn’t even have to worry about something being there to catch him. No, his silence regarding this new-found ability has nothing at all to do with that. Absolutely not. It just… never came up? Yeah. That’s Alec’s story and he’s sticking with it.

He doesn’t even know whether it’s Magnus’ magic or his general presence or something along those lines he can feel but – like always these days when he is around the warlock – Alec knows that Magnus is somewhere close by.

Even now, the feeling is impossible to describe. A soft tingling, a soothing warmth, not quite tangible but still definitely there. A mere shadow of the feeling from when they had been connected, actually sharing strength. But definitely enough to recognize it. Unmistakable.

Telling him.

_Magnus is here._

Suddenly, the magic intensifies, just for an instant, a spike of power.

And at Alec’s side, Meliorn instantly comes to attention, just a slight tensing of his shoulders, posture straightening the slightest bit, head tilting down but his eyes suddenly darting around to take in their surroundings from underneath his lashes with very much increased interest.

Seems like the seelie can feel Magnus’ presence as well.

 _Well, at least when it’s amplified like that_ , Alec thinks to himself.

Which, however, isn’t the point. The point is that Magnus is here, and there really aren’t that many reasons why the warlock would be waiting outside the Institute like this. Alec knows what this is.

A rescue.

There is a moment, just a second of indecision where Alec considers calling his team to attention, to make sure Meliorn won’t be able to escape from his grip, for everyone to fall back behind the wards.

But suddenly he recalls what he himself said a little while ago, with Magnus in front of him, healing him, saying their sort-of-goodbyes as much as Alec wishes he could ignore that it had been anything of the sort.

‘I wish there was another way than to take Meliorn to Idris, some way out of this, some way to defy this order without bringing the entirety of the Clave down on the Institute or on my family’s head’, he had said.

And here is Magnus. About to give him a way out.

Alec knows that whatever Magnus’ plan is, this close to the Institute, it can’t be any real sort of organized attack. Alec’s team would be able to retreat behind the wards far too quickly, not to even mention the numerous reinforcements they’d immediately have available from within the Institute, meaning the likelihood of Meliorn getting away in a full-on attack is pretty much zero.

So, if this is in fact a rescue attempt then it’s likely going to be the sort that relies on just that split-second of surprise, maybe some sort of distraction, just half a second of inattention from his group for Meliorn to get away.

And Alec is seriously considering letting him.

Because, yeah, it’s not perfect, and he’ll have to be careful not to give anything away even later on, lest he find himself tried for treason, but…

 _But_ , he thinks. _If Meliorn ‘escapes’, he can’t be interrogated in Idris, potentially putting the balance of New York’s entire Shadowworld at risk, Izzy won’t be so very angry anymore, and I won’t potentially have seelie blood on my hands no matter how indirectly._ And beyond some punishment for ineptitude he’ll personally have to face, the Clave won’t be able to go after his family directly in retaliation for Alec failing this mission.

A few more seconds of pause as his mind whirls.

And then, instead of warning the others, instead of calling everyone to attention, he lets his hold on Meliorn’s arm slacken, enough so that the seelie will be able to easily rip himself loose from his grip.

Meliorn’s eyes immediately dart up to him in obvious surprise and Alec just calmly meets his gaze. Then, he purposely lets his grip slacken further, lets go entirely, moves a small step away to take his position in the guarding semi-circle around Meliorn, leaving only Raj still holding the seelie’s other arm as was agreed upon while they had discussed team roles for this mission. Raj leading Meliorn, the rest of the team in a semi-circle around him as guards.

Well, Alec will absolutely take the blame for the ‘failed’ transport anyway, whether he is holding on to Meliorn or not, won’t put that on anyone else in his team just because Raj is unlucky enough to have been assigned the role of physically leading Meliorn.

And no matter what happens next, Alec won’t actively help Meliorn escape even if the seelie doesn’t manage to get away on his own, would not ever so much as consider attacking his own team, so getting away is very much up to Meliorn himself. And if the seelie dares to so much as _twitch_ in one of his Shadowhunters’ general direction, Alec will be running him through with a seraph blade _himself_ before Meliorn ever completes the first step.

Throwing a wrench into the Clave’s machinations? Sure. He’s been doing that for years whenever he felt it needed. But he will not betray his own people, his team, his Institute, the Shadowhunters who rely on him to lead them.

He won’t break their trust. Not for anything.

So, this right here - a chance, an opening, Alec not giving the imminent rescue attempt away - is all he can offer. It’s up to Meliorn to do the rest.

He still honestly hopes it will be enough. If only because it will be a rather neat solution to this entire mess.

Then.

A whooshing sound to their right, a portal appearing barely three or four full steps away from them.

And Meliorn is already moving, ripping himself loose from Raj’s hold in a single fluid move, quicksilver speed as he darts forwards, trustingly hurtling himself towards and through the portal that sprung up out of seemingly nowhere.

It takes barely a full second between the portal fully forming and Meliorn darting through, before the portal is once more collapsing back in on itself the instant he’s through. Simply gone.

And barely a moment later, Magnus’ presence disappears from Alec’s senses entirely as well.

Alec breathes out, just as the yelling starts up around him.

_Alright. So, no prisoner transport then. That’s at least one less thing to worry about._

Now.

How to explain this entire mess to the Clave?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, now it's its own fic after all! And I'll try to keep the angst to a minimum but Izzy and Jace are still going to feel some of the consequences of their recent disaster spree. In exchange, I intend to make Malec their power-coupley selves pretty much right from the start :D
> 
> Also, I decided to expand the stylistic element of the unreliable narrative a little in this. Usually, I try to keep the contradictions despite the split POVs to a minimum, but since there will be a lot politics in this, and Magnus and Alec do have rather different viewpoints for looking at things, I for once decided to write malec less brain-share-y than I usually do. So, be prepared for both of them to ‘know’ things, but for their opinions to not necessarily match up or even for either of them to be right.
> 
> Would love to know what you think :D
> 
> And thank you so so much for all your wonderful comments and kudos!!


	3. Chapter 3

“Well,” Meliorn comments from where he is settled primly on Magnus’ couch, all casual ease and pretend nonchalance. You know, after the seelie had tumbled quite spectacularly ass-over-teakettle through Magnus’ portal in his hurry to get away from his Shadowhunter… ‘escort’ just a few minutes ago. “This was rather unexpected,” the faerie then adds cheerfully.

“Hm,” Magnus hums in absent agreement, throwing another glance Meliorn’s way. Looks like the seelie is rather comfortable and doesn’t intend to leave any time soon.

He sighs, but then proceeds to wander over to his drink cart.

Hey, he just risked a war with the local Shadowhunter Institute and betrayed the confidence of someone who has grown rather dear to him, no matter how briefly he and Alexander have known each other. All to save a seelie Magnus barely knows and to try for some preemptive damage control, lest some of the absolute imbeciles - who seem to so like meddling in things they don’t know the least bit about - manage to start a war within the Shadowworld just out of sheer ignorance, not to even mention their utter inability to see beyond their own so very limited views of the world…

Yes, he absolutely deserves a drink. Or ten. To celebrate foiling the Clave’s plans and to mourn the personal connection that very action likely cost him.

There is a brief pause, only interrupted by the clinking of ice as Magnus prepares something with as high a alcohol content as he can make it, before Meliorn finally adds faux-casually, “Though, I do thank you for lending a helping hand, High Warlock Bane,” the seelie intones. 

It’s said flippantly, nonchalantly, like a side note. But Magnus can also hear the purposely vague sincerity behind it. It almost makes him want to roll his eyes.

Honestly. Seelies and their constant need of never giving a single truth fully away, even something as simple as a ‘thank you’, always layers upon layers upon layers of trickery and endless mirages and even the plainest of truths wrapped in at least two levels of deception.

Then again… It’s actually the use of his title as High Warlock that is actually most notable about that oh-so-brief thanks. Because Meliorn addressing him as such right now instead of just by his name, almost seems to imply a far more official context… It implies that Meliorn considers his debt to be owed to Magnus not only personally but also in his role as the High Warlock. And thus – even more notably – also in Meliorn’s own role as the Seelie Queen’s knight. Which carries quite a few rather crucial political implications.

If only because it also suggests something else, implies that Meliorn’s presence at the Institute might not have been entirely a personal choice to follow Isabelle’s supposed call but potentially an action fully sanctioned by the Seelie Queen herself…

As if to confirm his thoughts, Meliorn adds humorously, “I had not expected for my visit at the Institute to go quite that… dramatically.”

Ah. That at least clears up that particular question.

In all honesty, Magnus isn’t particularly surprised to hear that Meliorn wasn’t actually naive enough to fall for the bait that was set by the Clave to get him to appear at the Institute. Seelies are tricksters, live for their mind games and forever more intricate manipulations of everyone around them. And tricking tricksters isn’t an easy thing to do, especially for the Clave, who… well, let’s just say they’ve never been particularly good at subtle manipulations, forever so very heavy-handed in their handling of the Downworld in particular.

Yes, thinking about it, it seems far more likely that Meliorn was fully aware of the trap being set for him, but still followed the call, quite possibly sent by the Queen herself with the express purpose of letting himself be captured, likely with the _express purpose_ of then ‘reluctantly’ telling the Clave about the Cup already being in Shadowhunter hands, delighting in the thought of the sort of chaos it would sow within the New York Institute and the Clave in general.

The Seelie Queen so likes playing her little games with the mortals naïve enough to let her. Yes, stirring the pot by way of upsetting the already precarious balance does sound like her.

Magnus feels his eyes narrowing slightly. Because, he’d be rather… _grateful_ if she’d refrain from messing with his city in particular.

Then again, if he is reading everything about this correctly, then this also means that Meliorn was at the Institute in his official capacity as a Seelie Knight, which means that the debt for rescuing him thus isn’t only owed by Meliorn but also by the Queen herself.

“Hm,” Magnus finally hums pretend-absently, giving none of the calculations currently running through his mind away, instead just takes in the implications of the potential debt he might now be owed by her Majesty. But then he just brushes past it all as he finishes mixing their drinks and supplies casually, “I already sent out a warning to my warlocks to lay low for a while, so they’ll have collectively gone to ground by now.” He tilts his head at Meliorn. “You might want to suggest something similar to your Queen.”

See, Magnus has been playing the political game for a long time. He knows the value of debts owed, even more so from those few Downworld leaders in real positions of power. And he especially knows the value of _not_ calling them in.

Being _owed_ can be worth far more than anything calling in said debt might ever get you.

Meliorn smirks as he watches Magnus, though his eyes are entirely free of any sort of levity. The other Downworlder might be quite a bit younger than Magnus but he is certainly old enough to be aware of the numerous implications of this situation as well. Finally, the seelie hums and adds, “You mean, just in case the Clave might decide to dole out punishments indiscriminately to every warlock and faerie they see in reaction to my escape, without caring about guilt or evidence? Why would you think they’d ever do anything so cruelly unjust?” His voice practically drips with sarcasm.

Magnus also can’t help but agree, a sardonic quirk to his lips as he turns, drinks in hand to finally make his way over to Meliorn.

His decision to free a Clave prisoner will have the entirety of Idris in quite the tizzy.

Sure, he knows that there won’t be a single shred of evidence to be found tying him – much less anyone else – to the scene. He made sure of that. And thus, he will be able to fight any accusations levied at his people with the full power his position gives him, pretending pure fury at any not-sufficiently-backed-by-evidence accusations the Clave will soon be volleying about.

The only one who will be able to tie Magnus to the rescue is Meliorn himself. Who now also owes him a debt for that very action of freeing him and is thus the last person who will give his involvement away.

A promise from a seelie might be worthless, contracts and vows with their kind barely holding any value at all, their lot always finding some loophole to be exploited to void their promises or at the very least render them utterly useless. But seelies most certainly believe in _debts_. Their magic itself makes sure of that, binding them to their debts as they do any other magical creature who has ever wandered the earth, possibly even more so in their case as their particular brand of magic binds them to the _truth_ of any debts owed. It’s old magic, untouchable by words or intention. Inescapable.

The point is that Magnus knows he himself is safe and he’ll make sure that no one will dare to so much as point fingers at any other warlock within New York either. His people will be safe.

No, his only regret about this entire situation is the thought of Alexander, of losing that connection, not to even mention of the potential consequences losing a prisoner might have for Alexander in the future.

“Though, may I just say,” Meliorn then adds, even as he takes the drink offered to him with a nod of thanks. “If I’d have had to guess which Shadowhunter might potentially deign to involve themselves in helping with my escape, I would admittedly have bet on Isabelle. I certainly would not have expected her brother to be in on it. What is his name again? Aiden? Alan? Avalon?”

Magnus is suddenly glad that he is halfway turned away from the seelie, in the process of taking a seat in one of his armchairs. You know, to better hide his surprise as he blinks in honest bafflement at that particular comment.

Because, _Meliorn thinks Alexander was involved?_

Which, as the actual organizer of said rescue, Magnus has to say is definite news to him. 

Still, he makes sure to keep his expression perfectly neutral as he turns to smoothly settle into his seat, instead supplying casually, leadingly, “Alec.”

“Yes, him,” Meliorn nods thoughtfully. “Isabelle might admittedly have mentioned him before, but I always thought him the perfect Clave lackey. So, I did not bother to pay much attention.” The seelie tilts his head. “Truly, I was less surprised to have your magic brush across my senses, than when he promptly loosened his grip on me in reaction.”

Magnus gives another vague hum as he takes a drink from his glass, saying nothing to confirm or deny, instead doing his best not to give his own surprise away.

Because, _Alexander had known Magnus was there? He **let** Meliorn escape? _

Magnus doesn’t get the time to think on either of those little – rather astounding – revelations before Meliorn is tilting his head, eyes sharp on Magnus even as he shrugs, “Then again, it is always good to know that there is more than one potential ally to be found at the local Institute. You know, amongst all that genocidal rabble.”

For once, Magnus nods in honest agreement – because, that’s true enough – though he still doesn’t bother to contradict anything else Meliorn said.

He doesn’t quite know what to make of this. But for Meliorn to think that his rescue was a joined effort between Magnus and Alexander… Well, Magnus never even considered this as a potential outcome, but if the seelie honestly thinks Alexander was involved, if Alexander truly knew Magnus was there, if he really _let_ Meliorn escape…

Magnus’ mind is already off considering all the implications, the political shift this will cause.

For one, it would mean that Meliorn’s – and thus also the Queen’s – debt will also extend to Alexander, meaning they’ll have a vested interest in making up for said debt. And secondly, because Alexander’s – supposed or real – assistance in letting Meliorn escape is going to smooth over the many ruffled feathers with the Faerie Queen herself that likely resulted from Meliorn not only being arrested in the first place but also his subsequent treatment at the Institute.

If all blame for the unjustified arrest lands solely on Idris, on the Clave, instead of specifically on New York’s Institute – or even the Lightwoods as Meliorn’s primary contact – then that’s also where the seelies are going to seek compensation from.

So, if Meliorn is convinced he owes Alec, truly owes him, well, that can only be a good thing. Magnus so prefers a calm, not-on-the-verge-of-an-uprising Downworld. Especially in his own city.

Thus, he is more than happy not to contradict anything Meliorn just said, perfectly content to let the seelies and especially their queen believe whatever they want about the rescue.

And he definitely pushes aside any thoughts on what this could mean for him personally, what Alexander actively letting Meliorn escape, going along with Magnus’ rescue instead of raising an alarm as soon as he – _somehow_ – realized Magnus was waiting outside of the Institute, might mean for _them_. Whether there might still be a connection to be salvaged between them after all.

“Isabelle did admittedly approach me with a plan for your rescue,” Magnus instead supplies as he leans comfortably back in his seat, happy to add some more information to the pot that is only going to muddy the waters even further. It’s been some time since he saw the need to truly play the political game, to pull at the various strings at his fingertips, to twist things in his favor with just the right notions whispered into the right ears at the exact right time. “However, her approach involved a full-scale Downworlder assault on the Shadowhunters transporting you.” He lets his lips tilt into a somewhat sardonic smile. “So, I decided to preempt that particular mess by getting you out myself.”

“Ah,” Meliorn nods, sharply condescending humor sparking in his eyes. “Not much in the mood for a war today, I take it?” he asks derisively, apparently just as impressed by the idea of Downworlders openly attacking a Clave-ordered prisoner transport, potentially getting several of them arrested – never mind, killed – for an actual crime in order to get Meliorn out for a made-up one.

Seriously, Magnus doesn’t know what Shadowhunters are taught these days but there is definite room for improvement in the strategy department if _risking a war_ really is the best solution Isabelle and Jace were able to come up with.

Then again, their plan is actually a truly fine example of the so prevalent double-standards most Shadowhunters seem to suffer from. You know, what with Isabelle and Jace being all up-in-arms at the thought of handing the Mortal Cup to the Clave because someone there might then use it to further their personal agenda. But both apparently perfectly alright with the idea of _Clary_ using the Mortal Cup in order to bargain for her mother’s return, never mind that such a deal would then likely include actively handing one of the Mortal Instruments over to Valentine in exchange.

Who is the exact last person who should ever be given access to the Cup.

Honestly, those double-standards are more than a little painful to observe. Not to even mention that Magnus has no patience, no lenience, absolutely no sympathy for anyone who would so easily risk starting an actual war within his city, a war which would carry every risk of immediately spreading so very far beyond New York. And he certainly has no compassion for anyone who would do so by purposely and _willingly_ betraying someone so close to them.

The situation in the Shadowworld around the planet is so precariously balanced at this point – so much fury and wrathful anger having gathered over the past decades, simmering just beneath the surface, ever-fed by their collective powerlessness to protect themselves and theirs against the Clave’s unjust rulings unless they want to drag their entire world into an active conflict – that any sort of outright aggression between the Clave and the Downworld _anywhere_ in the world has every chance of instantly turning into a worldwide war between their factions. It’s something the Downworld leaders around the globe are perfectly aware of, everyone doing their best to keep their corner of the world as peaceful as they can, same as Magnus is doing in New York.

However. If that balance ever fails anywhere, there wouldn’t be a city in the world that wouldn’t instantly join the cause, every Downworld faction throwing their all into finally fighting for the justice they have been denied for so long. It would be worldwide war within mere hours.

So, Magnus has absolutely no sympathy for the three nephilim who had been so very willing to risk their world’s hard-won and hard-kept peace – forever paid for with the blood of Magnus’ own people – for their personal agendas. Nephilim who live a life so very privileged they don’t even seem to realize it, but who are so very immensely offended at the slightest infraction against their apparently rather fragile sense of self and/or morality. It speaks of a truly breathtakingly narrow-minded image of the world.

_Alexander really is the only one worth anything amongst their lot_ , Magnus thinks not-so-kindly. _His empathy a true rarity among his kind._

He makes himself push his thoughts about Alexander aside, doesn’t let himself consider his questions regarding the rescue and Alexander’s apparent role in it. The questions of whether the Shadowhunter had really known that Magnus had been waiting in front of the Institute – and in that case, _how_ he had known – or whether the timing had been a simple coincidence and Alexander had simply been determined to give Meliorn a chance to get away on his own as soon as they stepped outside of the wards, doing his best to counter the unjustified arrest with what little tools he had at his disposal at the time.

It’s something to be ruminated over later, once he is alone and doesn’t have to watch his every word and gesture and expression, lest he give anything away to the seelie lounging about in his loft, all supposed casual ease but eyes sharp as ever.

Still, he can’t help that slight kernel of hope that – if Alexander was apparently fully inclined to simply let the unjustly captured Clave prisoner escape, going directly against any orders he might have been given – maybe there is still a chance for Magnus. Maybe he didn’t ruin any chance he might ever had had at even a generally genial relationship with Alexander. Maybe Magnus’ break of Alexander’s trust can still be fixed. Maybe.

Magnus can only hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so a comparatively short chapter, but I had to cut it off here because the next scene is rather ludicrously long XD This chapter was mostly about giving an idea regarding the inherent politics that are going to play a rather crucial role in this fic, but I promise that the next chapter is about Alec’s side of things and going to have quite a bit more plot development as well.
> 
> And thank you all for the wonderful comments and kudos despite my long absence! You guys are wonderful and kept me motivated despite RL kind of imploding on me these past couple months <3 Hope you are all safe and healthy! Have a happy New Year, everyone!
> 
> Would love to know what you think :D


	4. Chapter 4

“Jace,” Izzy calls, trying to get him to stop pacing along the side of the room where the three of them – Izzy, Jace, and Clary – are gathered to share whatever information they managed to glean about the prisoner transport that never reached where they had been waiting for it. “Come on. Why are you angry? This is for the best.”

They only just found out about Meliorn’s escape and Izzy is honestly ecstatic. A huge weight has lifted off her shoulders, knowing that Meliorn is safe, that his connection to her isn’t the reason he might be unjustly persecuted, might be held prisoner in Idris for who-knows-how-long.

And the best part? Meliorn hadn’t even needed Izzy’s help to get himself out, had managed just fine on his own.

When the prisoner transport hadn’t come by the spot Izzy and Jace had picked out for their ambush, she had been so desperately afraid that Alec might have somehow foreseen the attack, might have changed the route without telling either Izzy or Jace – the implication of her brother purposely not sharing information like that with them… it’s something she doesn’t quite want to think about right now – and that she would be too late to save the seelie.

However, turns out Meliorn escaped all on his own, hadn’t needed their help, maybe having prearranged something for just this sort of situation, or maybe some other seelie had commissioned help for his rescue, or maybe he simply got lucky. Either way, the prisoner transport didn’t make it to where they were waiting for no other reason than because Meliorn already escaped right in front of the Institute, simply skipping through a portal that appeared from seemingly nowhere before anyone could react to stop him, none of the Shadowhunters surrounding Meliorn even realizing that there had clearly been some warlock lying in wait in front of the Institute before it was already too late.

So. Meliorn is safe. Getting him out the only thing she had been able to think about ever since Lydia announced the seelie’s arrest.

And Izzy is so relieved she is almost dizzy with it.

However, glancing at the other two with her right now, it is rather obvious that Izzy is also clearly alone in her relief at hearing that Meliorn got away unharmed.

You know, in direct contrast to Clary who is standing off to the side, expression anxious and wringing her hands, while Jace paces along the side of the room, still ranting about how Magnus didn’t stick to the plan, apparently rather hung-up on the fact that the warlock didn’t get them Alec’s stele to break into his safe with as they’d thought they had agreed to. Instead the Mortal Cup is still as securely locked away as it’s been since they got it from the mundane police station.

“Of course, _you’re_ fine with this,” Jace finally returns harshly. “You already got what you wanted. Your little seelie boyfriend is safe.”

Izzy promptly feels her mouth pulling down, her frown darkening into something dangerous at Jace’s tone. “ _Yes_ , I’m fine with this,” she returns succinctly, ignoring the way Clary is now fidgeting rather fretfully as she watches Izzy and Jace argue, feels her own mood quickly plummeting towards something darker, the stress of the day already having her temper rather short. “Because we didn’t actually have to fight Alec to get Meliorn out.”

Jace scoffs derisively, dismissively. Like that doesn’t even factor into it for him, like he doesn’t know exactly what she is talking about.

It pisses her off.

“Don’t act like you don’t know exactly what we were about to do,” she hisses darkly. Because, for all that she hadn’t been able to see a different, a better way to go about it, she had still been entirely aware of exactly _what_ they were about to do and – more importantly – _who_ they were about to do it to. She takes a step closer to Jace in her anger, utterly focused on him. “We were not only planning to ambush Alec and several of the others from the Institute in order to free Meliorn, but we also asked Magnus to _steal Alec’s stele_. Just so you and Clary could get to his safe and run off with the Cup on your own.” She suppresses the slight waver in her voice at phrasing what they had been planning to do so clearly, at actually saying it out loud. She pushes past it, instead scoffs angrily at Jace’s mulish expression. “The only reason you _didn’t_ , the only reason you’re still _here_ , is because Magnus clearly never intended to go through with it. So, just because we’ll have to figure out something else for the Cup, don’t get pissed at me for being glad that Meliorn is safe.”

Jace’s anger twists his features, mouth opening, likely fully intending to snarl something right back at her.

But he never actually gets the chance.

“What did you just say?”

Alec’s voice from behind them has Izzy and Jace flinching, the three of them immediately swinging around.

Alec who is standing in the doorway behind them, his face blank, almost impassive but his eyes just the slightest bit widened, obvious shock in his eyes mixed with something definitely hurt as he clearly puzzles through what he just heard Izzy say. It’s only there for a few seconds, before Alec already manages to push it away, to hide any and all of his emotions behind his usual impassive façade. Until only a crushing sort of disappointment lingers in his eyes as he focuses on them.

“You planned to-,” Alec blinks, clearly trying to gather his thoughts, even as his voice remains neutral as ever, brows pulling down. “You asked Magnus to steal my stele from me. So you could take the Cup from the safe. Because you were planning to… do what exactly?”

The thing that hits the hardest – the thing that has Izzy feeling like there is something sharp and painful lodged in her throat – is her brother’s obvious shock, his honest, _genuine_ surprise at hearing what they had been planning, at realizing they ever planned to betray him at all. Something he’d clearly never even considered they’d do and something he certainly wouldn’t ever do to them.

Izzy’s chest constricts.

When Clary immediately steps forward, clearly ready for a confrontation, Izzy doesn’t know whether to be grateful for not even getting a chance to reply to Alec’s almost-question. Or whether to be angry at the interference in family matters by someone who has no business injecting themselves into this at all.

“We need it to get my mother back,” Clary asserts strongly, as always so sure of her convictions. Her shoulders are squared, chin tilted stubbornly. Obviously going in for a confrontation.

Standing across from Alec, who only watches her, assessing, clearly not at all impressed by what he sees, his expression stoic, calm, serious, the look in his eyes grave and gaze weighty, Clary suddenly looks like a little child.

Izzy almost wants to wince at that thought. Because, _what does that say about us, about Jace and me, for being on Clary’s side._

Alec lets the silence stretch for another second or two. “So, you would have given one of our most sacred artifacts to Valentine, no matter what that would have meant for the rest of the Shadowworld,” he says calmly, though the way his brows pull down give is honest anger away. At least to Izzy and Jace who know how to read Alec. “In the vague hope that he might then decide to keep his word and simply return your mother in exchange? Because Valentine would have said so.”

It’s not really directed at Clary, more at Jace and Izzy, and the way he says it… There is none of the exasperated fondness, the irritated resignation Alec had shown over the past couple of days whenever Izzy and Jace went about solving things in direct opposition to their brother’s assessment of the situation. Instead, his voice is so utterly neutral… Izzy can’t recall Alec ever talking to either of them like this.

It’s a tone of voice he uses when disciplining the Shadowhunters under his command, never when talking to Izzy or Jace.

Not to even mention... Phrasing it like that, their plan of ‘using the Cup to get Clary’s mother back’ suddenly seems far less sound in reasoning than it did before. You know, _like Alec has been telling us right from the start._ Izzy barely keeps herself from wincing at that particular thought.

The silence stretches.

And finally, Alec just scoffs. Derisively, dismissively, full of helpless disappointment. And no matter how well he masks his feelings, Izzy can still see the hurt, the pain, the baffled sort of heartbreak in his eyes, still there, still visible – at least to her – but already being covered as his forever-impassive mask once more slides into place, hiding anything worth noting about her brother away. As he hides himself from the world, hides himself - for once - even from them.

“And seeing as you haven’t yet run off with the Cup,” – _like the cowards you are apparently turning out to be_ , Izzy almost hears him add, the disappointment in his voice making the sentiment rather perfectly clear – “I take it Magnus didn’t actually do anything of the sort?”

Izzy can’t quite read his expression. His mask once more immutable, impenetrable, but just the slightest far-off look in his eyes.

Like Alec is remembering something, thinking back on something, questioning his own memories, likely thinking of the last time he came across Magnus, wondering whether the warlock might have been trying to steal his stele but simply didn’t get the opportunity or whether Magnus might have made the conscious choice not to do anything of the sort.

She almost wants to step forwards, wants to reassure him that Magnus must have _chosen_ not to go along with their plan, that he clearly never intended not to go through with it, suddenly desperate to reassure Alec, despite the fact that she herself, her own plans and choices are the very thing hurting her brother right now.

Because Izzy, like an absolute idiot, kind of forgot about that part, the part where she thought asking Magnus of all people to help them was a wonderfully simple solution to everything. Despite the fact that the warlock is the one person Alec has ever shown any sort of interest in. Because, apparently, Izzy didn’t even care enough to consider that doing so would leave Alec without anyone at all who he wouldn’t have lost faith in.

_Maybe that’s why Magnus never actually went through with the plan. Because, he cared too much about what our betrayal would do to Alec._

Suddenly, she isn’t sure her excuse of having been so very focused on Meliorn’s rescue is enough to make up for all of the missteps – the rather heartbreaking mistakes – she made just in the past few hours alone. Everything that had seemed like such an obvious, simple part of their plan earlier, is suddenly crumbling away.

Their silent stand-off is once more interrupted by Clary. “I only gave you the Cup, so you could keep it safe until I needed it!” she exclaims, all righteous anger on her own behalf. And for once Izzy can’t help but agree with Alec in wishing that Clary would just keep out of things for a couple of moments, that she’d realize this right here doesn’t really concern her, that this is a family matter. Izzy can’t help but almost marvel at how Clary clearly hasn’t even realized that this isn’t about her at all, that this is solely about what _Izzy and Jace_ were planning to do to Alec. That Clary’s involvement likely doesn’t even register to Izzy’s older brother.

As evidenced by the way Alec looks at her, focuses that intent stare on Clary that he uses when confronted with something he’d honestly like to simply remove from his presence but his duty forcing him to deal with it anyway. Though, that particular look does have Clary falter the slightest bit, likely noticing the assessment and clearly not enjoying the feeling of coming up wanting.

Finally, Alec asks her, “And what has you so convinced that you have any sort of right to one of our most sacred artifacts?” It doesn’t really sound like a question. But Clary still answers anyway, pure, righteous indignation.

“It was my mother’s!” she exclaims angrily.

“It wasn’t,” Alec refutes so very calmly, something so devastatingly dismissive of Clary in his eyes now it is almost painful to watch, especially since Izzy and Jace seem to be included in said dismissal as well.

Seems like Alec is entirely done coddling Clary now, like he has firmly sorted her from mundane-to-be-protected into someone who is expected to bear the weight and the consequences of their own actions, might even be categorizing her into some sort of threat, if only due to the way she is apparently able to make other people go along with her take on things.

And going by the expression currently on Clary’s face, she clearly doesn’t know what to do with that change.

Because that tone he is using right now? That’s the tone he uses when he is cutting anyone under his command back to size. The fact that he is at the same time talking to her like he would their little brother, a nine-year-old, quite effectively adds insult to injury. As Clary is clearly rather aware, going by her steadily reddening face.

Alec simply continues, voice still calm, impassive, utterly dismissive, “The Cup was given to the very first Shadowhunter by Raziel himself, a sacred artifact entrusted to and to be kept by our entire race. Your mother _stole_ it from the Clave.” He tilts his head slightly, before he concedes, “She did it to keep the Cup safe, yes, but it was never hers and I quite honestly doubt she ever saw it as such. She was raised a Shadowhunter. She knows better.”

Izzy swallows, makes herself breathe through the horror of having her brother, the one who trained her, who taught her everything she knows, who lives and breathes the Clave’s doctrines but always, always gave her the freedom to form her own opinions and live her life accordingly, took on the brunt of their parents’ expectations, just so she and Jace and Max wouldn’t have to. Her older brother who never once forced her to fit herself to his convictions, if anything so utterly proud of her every time she stood up for her own beliefs, who would sooner have cut off his own limbs than ever betray her, no matter the reason. And who is now looking at her like…

It’s like the very ground is shifting beneath her feet, suddenly unsteady. Alec’s unquestioning, immutable support something she has never once put into question throughout her life. It’s the thing she relies on most, the thing that she never even need question. Alec is always on her side, no matter what, always puts her and Max and Jace first, even above his own convictions, his own happiness, above everything.

Except now, for the first time since Izzy can think, he seems to be doubting just how wise of a decision that might have been.

She clenches her hands into fists to keep them from shaking, as one of the very foundations she has built her life upon shifts beneath her feet. As her brother looks at her like someone who he thinks can’t be trusted, at least not entirely, unquestionably. Not anymore.

She swallows again.

Then, Alec is turning towards Jace, expression once more changing, shifting ever so slightly into something darker, deeper, so much harsher. So much more hurt. It’s the barest shift, a change so slight that anyone aside from Izzy and Jace couldn’t possibly notice at all. But to them, the contrast between Alec facing Clary - who he clearly couldn’t care less about and has finally given up to even try - and facing Jace is rather jarring.

“I told you about giving the Cup to the Clave,” Alec then comments towards his parabatai, eyes narrowing just the slightest bit. “And you told me you’d get Clary to turn it over herself. You asked me to let her be the one to give it to Lydia. And I-,” he cuts himself off, breathes, an incredulous sort of smile twisting at the corners of his lips. “And I believed you.”

Izzy sees Jace’s flinch at the implied ‘how naïve of me to think I could actually trust my parabatai’s word’, as she herself blinks in surprise. She hadn’t known about that conversation. She doesn’t know whether that makes her involvement in their plan better or worse.

Alec’s focus is still unwavering, still fixed on Jace, intense and dark. “I went against everything I believed in by keeping the Cup secret from the Clave for Clary’s sake. For _your_ sake. And the instant I wasn’t willing to compromise myself any longer, instead of talking to me or trying to work with me, you decided to go behind my back.”

“I was doing it for you!” Jace bursts out, his presented anger not nearly convincing enough to hide the desperation underneath. Desperation at having Alec talk to him like this, in a way he never has before. “You would never have been able to forgive yourself if you had brought Meliorn to be interrogated in Idris _or_ if the Cup had gotten into the wrong hands.”

Alec doesn’t even react to the outburst, not beyond calmly meeting Jace’s eyes for a few seconds. Then again, he doesn’t need to actually say anything out loud. The unasked question of how Jace ever got to the conclusion that Alec hadn’t been aware of everything he just said hanging heavily in the air around them.

It, admittedly, does sound rather flimsy as an excuse, even to Izzy’s ears despite the fact that she used those exact arguments earlier while trying to convince Magnus to help them. Maybe that’s why Magnus didn’t do what he seemingly agreed to. Because he found it just as ridiculous a justification for what they were planning to do as Alec clearly does.

“So, that part was true as well then?” Alec asks. “You were planning to ambush us and free Meliorn?”

There is silence. But something in Alec’s expression tells Izzy he doesn’t expect nor does he actually need an answer. If anything he rather clearly doesn’t want them saying anything at all anymore, seems to prefer not hearing them talk about betraying him again.

“The Cup is going back to Idris right now,” Alec asserts, voice implacable, an announcement of fact. “I am done compromising the safety of the Shadowworld for one little girl.” He pauses, lets his eyes drift over Jace once more. “Or rather, for a parabatai who has forgotten that this bond is supposed to be about more than just himself.”

Jace stares back, tries for stubborn, but his eyes giving away just how much that last statement hurt him. However, Alec doesn’t even seem to be paying attention to his reactions, unfazed. Like for once, at least for right now, he simply doesn’t care. Can’t care. Simply doesn’t have it in him right now. Not after what he just heard.

And Izzy’s chest constricts with the question of who Alec will go to for help now, to listen, to let him simply be and work through what happened today.

Because with Izzy and Jace both on the other side… Alec doesn’t have anyone. Alec relies on them the same way they rely on him. To always be there, to always be on each other’s side, in each other’s corner. Unquestionably.

A fact Izzy utterly forgot about. 

“You are not leaving this room,” Alec continues, voice still that same implacable command, his face expressionless, eyes dark, unreadable. Like they are to be guarded against.

When his eyes find Izzy’s, she for once doesn’t quite manage to suppress her flinch. Not because of how Alec looks, the danger or even the anger he radiates, not because of the obvious threat or the almost hidden, crushing disappointment not-quite-covered by his always-calm expression, but because she knows that expression in his eyes. This is how Alec looks when he is dealing with dangerous situations, when he is gearing up for battle, when he is standing his ground against their parents or arguing against Clave regulations, more often than not for Jace or Izzy’s sake. He has never once in her entire life looked at her like that. Like she is someone to protect himself against.

_What did we do?_ she asks herself desperately. _What did we **do**?_

When Meliorn had been arrested, she had immediately entered panic mode, the only thing on her mind the question of how to possibly fix this. And when they came up with the plan, it had been such an obvious solution to their problems, freeing Meliorn and making sure the Cup was safe. That was all. That was all Izzy had wanted to do.

But somehow she had forgotten what it would entail, that ‘freeing Meliorn’ would mean attacking her brother. That ‘keeping the Cup safe’ meant utterly breaking Alec’s trust.

It’s just… Alec is always on their side, always has been. It’s an immutable truth in her world, part of her very sense of self, has been ever since she was a little girl. Her big brother is always in her corner. The thought that she could ever do something that might _change_ that never even occurred to her. Not until now.

“You can’t just order us to stay here,” Clary suddenly interjects once more, all righteous indignation at anyone daring to tell her what to do.

It reminds Izzy of yet another misstep on her part in these past few weeks. Because Clary still hasn’t understood that Alec absolutely does have the authority to order them to do just that, that no one at this Institute would dare refute an order he gives them, that even demoted as he has been – _due to our action_ s, Izzy reminds herself, _because we’ve been messing things up for Alec for a while now_ – he is still very much the second in line where leadership is concerned, even with Lydia standing in the hallway right behind Alec with a small contingent of Shadowhunters visible over his shoulder, waiting for Alec to get done with this conversation. If only because every Shadowhunter at the New York Institute will follow Alec’s command first - unquestionably, instinctually - before they listen to anyone else.

Then again, Izzy and Jace have cheerfully been undermining Alec’s authority since the moment Clary showed up, used the fact that Alec gives the two of them so much more leeway than everyone else against him, used it for Clary’s sake.

It’s just… It had been nice. Sneaking through the city, a treasure hunt of clues to be found and followed towards the Mortal Cup, infiltrating a police station, saving a couple of warlocks, squabbling with werewolves, even getting to invade a vampire den. A break in the monotony of demon hunting.

None of it seems like that much fun anymore.

Because Alec had indulged them, like he always does when Izzy and Jace team up against him, wheedle him into things. But usually they make sure to keep their disagreements behind closed doors, between the three of them.

Somehow Izzy hadn’t realized that with herself and Jace reacting to every single order Alec gave them by trying to circumvent his instructions, like his orders held no weight for them or anyone else, Clary had no way of realizing just how immutable their older brother’s commands usually are. That she has only been included in Alec’s leniency due to Jace fully putting himself behind her.

A concession that has clearly found its rather abrupt end, going by the way Alec barely glances Clary’s way, doesn’t acknowledge the fact she has even spoken, for once apparently done giving her the attention she demands, doesn’t speak a single word, his order already given and thus seeing no need to repeat himself as he lets his eyes sweep over all three of them.

Alec who isn’t observing Izzy as he usually does, exasperation and endless fondness mixed together, the expression she’s known since he first started trying to explain the theory behind runes to her when she was five and got curious what her brother was studying, demanding to be included, and Alec, as always, indulging her, trying to explain, Izzy nodding along importantly despite not understanding a single word of it.

But now? His face is expressionless, eyes shuttered. It’s not her older brother currently watching them, assessing them, but the man who trained them, the leader of their Institute. And who is currently reassigning them within his constructs of who to trust and who not to, who can be unquestionably relied on, who he immutably believes to be on his side.

And they apparently no longer qualify.

Which leaves her brother with no one. Izzy feels like there is an iron band tightening around her chest as Alec looks at her. And then, simply dismisses them all, turns around and leaves, a single gesture of his hand has two of the Shadowhunters outside taking up spots on either side of the door before it closes behind him. This is Alec Lightwood, the leader of their Institute.

Off to the side Clary is sputtering in protest at being dismissed and Jace is scowling, though Izzy can see the helpless uncertainty lurking in his eyes.

All three of them stare at the closed door.

A few seconds of silence.

“Like I’m just going to stay here just because he told me to,” Clary then snorts, dismissive, like the mere thought is utterly ludicrous to her.

And suddenly there is something so bitter, so angry curling through Izzy at hearing Clary talk about Alec like that. Like he doesn’t deserve her respect. Like she has any right to speak about Alec like that. Especially after what they just tried to do.

Clary might have no loyalty to Alec, no reason to feel bad about trying to go behind his back, but Izzy expected Clary to at least have enough empathy to realize that the same isn’t true for Izzy and Jace. That they were actively planning to break someone’s trust who believes in them with an immovable certainty that both her and Jace absolutely rely on. Something they were prepared to give up for Clary.

And she is still complaining about not getting her way.

Izzy feels her mouth tilting down, anger curling in her chest, pain and regret and something rather close to fury intermixing.

She moves. Striding towards the door, steps purposeful, notes how Clary barely pauses before she immediately starts following, barely a few steps behind on her way towards the door, clearly thinking Izzy is on the same page as her in getting out of here despite Alec’s command.

The moment Izzy reaches the door, she fluidly swings around, staff uncurling in her hands, widens her stance, back to the door.

Immovable.

_Just like my brother taught me_.

It has Clary coming to a rather abrupt stop barely a few steps in front of her.

“Izzy?” she asks, sounding so honestly confused, like the mere idea that someone could ever not side with her on any given issue is utterly surprising to her.

“Alec ordered us to stay,” Izzy provides calmly.

Nobody is getting through this door. Not while she is still standing. And going by the way she can see Jace’s face twisting in slight resignation, he realizes as much.

Absently she wonders whether his fascination with this girl will be enough to make him go against Izzy as well, whether he’ll be willing to actively fight her for Clary’s sake. Though, if he is, then he better be ready to throw his all into it, just as Izzy will be giving this all she got, every single last ounce and then some.

She is more than willing to measure her own conviction to stand with Alec against Jace’s willingness to help Clary.

Especially after she already screwed up so badly.

“Like hell does _he_ just get to tell me what to do,” Clary replies angrily.

Izzy feels her eyes narrowing at the inflection, the disrespect shown to her brother. Her older brother who always does everything in his power to help Izzy and Jace with anything they could possibly need help with, but who is now hurting because he was forced to realize that his devotion is apparently far more one-sided than he had assumed.

Which it isn’t. It’s really not.

At least Izzy never thought it would ever be, had thought that she’d back Alec up just like he’s always done for her if it ever came down to it, no matter what the world might be demanding of either of them.

She doesn’t quite know what to do with the realization that that is apparently far less of an immutable truth than she had always thought. She was never prepared to find out that she herself is apparently far less loyal than she thought herself to be. It rattles her very sense of self.

“ _He?_ ” she asks, eyes narrowing as she focuses on Clary, barely keeps the snarl out of her voice. “You mean _Alec_? My _brother_? The guy who has been helping you ever since you showed up, has put his own convictions and beliefs and duties aside to help you find your mother. Is that the ‘ _he_ ’ you are referring to?”

Clary is opening her mouth, definite surprise in her eyes now at Izzy’s vitriol.

But Izzy is utterly disinterested in hearing whatever she might have to say. Not right now.

Just hours ago she was put in front of a choice between her devotion to Alec and her friendship to Meliorn. She can’t regret choosing Meliorn, can’t regret her conviction to free him no matter what, because there had been a real chance that he would never have come back from Idris. But she can most certainly regret doing so in the most hurtful way to Alec she could possibly have come up with.

And now here is another choice, once again between Alec and someone else.

_No_ , she corrects herself. _This isn’t actually a choice at all_.

“Alec ordered us to stay here,” she asserts calmly, strongly. “And, by the angel, that is what we are going to do. Even if I have to personally knock the both of you unconscious to make sure of it. We already made enough of a mess of everything without adding to it. We had a plan and we failed. Deal with it.”

“We only _failed_ because Magnus betrayed us,” Clary hisses back.

“No,” Izzy instantly contradicts sharply. “We failed because Magnus _refused_ to betray Alec.”

She can see Jace flinch at that, meets his eyes over Clary’s shoulder, knows what he is thinking.

Because what does it say about Izzy and Jace that it was the warlock who has known them for less than a month who ultimately came through in protecting Alec from pain, if only by way of inaction and not going along with their plan. Pain his own siblings were all too willing to cause him.

She clenches her teeth.

So.

No one will be leaving this room. Because with what they just tried to do to Alec, with the only reason why they _didn’t_ betray him, didn’t utterly break his trust, being Magnus’ apparent unwillingness to go along with their plan after all, this is where it ends. She refuses to tolerate any more betrayal of her brother. From herself or anyone else.

There’s already been enough of that.

She breathes out painfully at that thought.

They used to be a team. Her and Alec and Jace. Unbreakable. The three of them against the world.

_When in angel’s name did that change?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… drama, drama. And I know this whole Alec-coincidentally-coming-across-Team-Disaster-right-when-they-are-loudly-discussing-their-evil-plans-out-in-the-open is a rather hand-wavy way of having him find out about everything, but I just wanted him to have all the information on that end pretty much from the beginning (if only because him knowing about all of it will also nicely help the Malec fluff along :3) and this was the least convoluted way of going about it. 
> 
> Would love to know what you think :D
> 
> And thanks so much for all your comments and kudos!


	5. Chapter 5

Alec turns his back on his siblings, calmly steps back out into the hallway, leaves the room with his siblings behind, tries his best to not think about everything that just happened.

He tries to push it all aside, tries not to think about what he just heard, the intended betrayal he just learned of. Tries to push past the fact that his siblings had apparently planned to go behind his back, to betray his confidence, to betray _him_.

But even as he turns to determinedly stride down the hallway towards the ops center, Lydia at his side, four Shadowhunters from Meliorn’s failed escort team following in-step behind them, he isn’t particularly successful in ignoring any of it. Pain curls through his chest, makes it hard to breathe for a second, a desperate sort of hurt squeezing his heart, somehow hellfire-hot and ice-cold at the same time as it lances through him.

He knows none of it is showing on the outside, not beyond the straighter-than-usual line of his shoulders, his slightly narrowed eyes, his presence having every Shadowhunter they come across instantly moving out of his way, something impossible-to-ignore saturating the air around him, ever-growing as he lets his hurt and disappointment give way to anger instead.

He is furious. Utterly and completely furious. And, angel, the disappointment feels like a physical, crushing weight in his chest.

Sure, he’d known that Izzy and Jace had been planning something, had been preparing himself internally for whatever curve ball they might throw at him next. But… them doing something like this, something so cowardly, treacherous, disloyal, going against everything they are supposed to be as Shadowhunters, as Lightwoods, as the people Alec trusts most in this world, had never even occurred to him.

Still, as much as he doesn’t want to think about it, he isn’t particularly successful at pushing any of it away, the pain too fresh, the shock too recent for him to ignore what the two people he thought would never betray him had been planning to do.

Even just their plan to steal his stele, no matter the reason, no matter how wonderfully righteous they might have thought themselves…. Taking another Shadowhunter’s stele, that’s simply not done, one of those unspoken but never violated taboos amongst their kind, a line never crossed. And most certainly not for reasons as flimsy as Izzy and Jace’s seem to be.

Alec feels his anger darken, turning further towards fury, away from the painful disappointment.

Because, not only did they plan to betray him but _they asked Magnus to help them? To do it **for** them?_ The two of them brave enough to plan for utterly breaking Alec’s trust but their intent not resolute enough to then also do their own dirty work? Happy to push that responsibility unto someone else, someone who – as a non-Shadowhunter – might not have even been aware just how sacrosanct a stele tends to be amongst nephilim.

Although, suddenly Magnus’ comment about Izzy and Jace having ‘mentioned’ Alec’s engagement, before Alec ever got a chance to tell Magnus himself, despite knowing just how incredibly tactless telling the warlock in such a casual manner must have been… Well, that certainly makes far more sense if they had been trying to get Magnus to agree to their plan, to make him more likely to want to act against Alec, to maybe make Magnus want some sort of revenge on Alec for getting engaged. It’s not like the warlock has been particularly subtle about his interest in Alec.

Still, he doesn’t want to think about whether they decided to ask Magnus for help only because taking his stele would be so much easier to do with magic or whether they counted on the fact that Magnus’ presence tends to be at least somewhat distracting to Alec, potentially making him less likely to notice anything being off. Whether Izzy and Jace might have been planning to use Alec’s not-at-all-subtle infatuation with Magnus against him, the one weakness he has _for once_ allowed himself to show, so very readily exploited by those he thought he could trust.

Alec breathes out, forces himself to keep himself as calm, as utterly unmoved as he can possibly make it.

Just what has happened to Izzy and Jace, the two people who Alec thought he knew best in this world, to turn them into the kind of narrow-minded cowards Alec absolutely cannot stand, self-righteous and self-important and utterly spineless with no loyalty to anyone aside from themselves and whatever higher purpose they might have decided to assume at any given moment.

To her credit, Lydia hasn’t said anything about what she just overheard, instead just keeping pace beside him as he strides through the Institute’s hallways, same for the Shadowhunters with them.

Alec and Lydia – plus the team of Shadowhunters who had been on that ‘failed’ prisoner transport with him – had just been coming back from informing the Clave of Meliorn’s escape. During that brief but rather brutal debriefing, he had taken the blame for the failed mission fully upon himself. First of all, as the leader of the team the mission’s success was his responsibility anyway, and secondly, it wouldn’t be fair to have Lydia, as the de facto interim Head, or any of his team, just because they were present, carry any of the blame with him. Not when Meliorn’s escape truly is on Alec, when he’d had the chance of stopping the rescue from happening at all, when he made the decision to let Meliorn get away. A fact which, thankfully, no one else is aware of at all.

Still, with him taking full blame, there are definite consequences coming Alec’s way for his supposed failure.

Which is fine. He can take it. It’s not the first time he screwed up a mission, not even the first time he’s done so on purpose. He can take the Clave’s punishments for failures, is rather practiced at it, actually.

Sure, punishment for failed missions are never fun, especially for high profile ones like this particular one, but the Clave also knows better than to demoralize its own people by going too far with their punishments for simple mistakes even if they result in catastrophic failures. Just as long as there is no _intent_ behind said screw-ups. Thankfully, during the debriefing Lydia had backed him up all the way as he detailed their planning for the transport and having taken every precaution, and he’s got his entire team of Shadowhunters who swore up and down that there was no time to react during the rescue itself, that the entire escape took three seconds in total.

Rather conveniently for Alec’s own narrative, there had been an instant understanding amongst everyone – very much aside from Alec, who kept his mouth entirely shut on the issue – that the ambush had to have been prearranged between Meliorn and some unknown warlock, if only to guarantee the perfect timing, for the seelie to be able to react that quickly, to time it just right.

But his team is firm in their statements that by the time they realized what was happening, Meliorn had already been halfway to the portal, gone by the time their team ever managed to try and follow. Thankfully, the Clave officials seemed to have bought into the idea that the rescue must have been pre-arranged by Meliorn in some manner, the lot of them instead throwing around quite a few derogative terms about Downworlder cowardice and how they had clearly been too afraid to go up against Alec’s team directly, supposedly ‘knowing they couldn’t win’, and by the end of the debriefing they had been rather placated, the forewarned punishments for their failure much less harsh.

Then again, anyone who has ever been on their frontlines, who has ever fought demons or dealt with some of the more tricky and/or powerful Downworlders, knows that sometimes things just happen no matter what you do. So, Alec is hopeful that the punishments won’t turn out too badly.

He is even still kind of hoping that the Clave might decide to brush the entire thing under the rug, to pretend none of it ever happened, lest someone learn they ever got bested by a couple of Downworlders, much less while trying to transport a prisoner they had no business arresting in the first place.

Well, he’d been determined to deal with the consequences whenever they came for him.

But the point is, Lydia and him had just gotten done talking to the Clave to explain the situation and they’d been on their way to the ops center, to debrief the team separately from the Clave’s rather brutal questioning.

And then he’d heard his siblings talking in one of the rooms leading off from the hallway.

Alec had thought it so convenient to come across the two of them together, planning to quickly step inside to update them, wanting to give Izzy the good news about Meliorn.

Only to find himself utterly blindsided by the words he’d heard coming out of Izzy’s mouth, the plans they had made and apparently only failed at because the warlock they asked for help decided not to do his agreed upon part.

Then again… That’s not entirely correct, is it? Sure, Izzy and Jace are clearly assuming that Magnus simply disappeared without ever doing anything about the plans they had told him about.

But Alec knows better.

Alec knows that Magnus didn’t only void their plan of taking the Cup from the safe by not stealing his stele, but that Magnus is also responsible for preventing their attack on the prisoner transport entirely. Magnus voided all of their plans within hours of being told about them.

Which also brings him back to the question he’s been rather desperately trying to ignore until now. The question of, _Magnus **knew**? Magnus knew what they were planning and he didn’t tell me?_

The thought hurts. Devastatingly. Despite Alec really being in no position to demand anything from Magnus at all, not even that the warlock not go behind his back.

 _Then again_ , he reminds himself, thoughts whirling, chest hurting from a not-at-all-physical-but-still-so-very-inescapable pain, mind desperate to find something _good_ to latch on to, something that might make things hurt just a little bit less. _No matter what he might have promised Izzy and Jace, Magnus very much didn’t try to take my stele. He was there right after Izzy and Jace must have approached him, and I was so distracted by his presence, he could have easily taken my stele. But he didn’t._

Alec makes himself think back to those few moments of calm and quiet between Magnus and himself, how painful their conversation had been due to everything said out loud and even more so due to all the things unspoken, a moment of confessions and regretful could-have-beens and rather painful goodbyes as much as neither of them had actually said their farewells.

_We were talking and I was distracted and my stele was **right there** on the table. But he didn’t take it. He could have, and I likely wouldn’t have ever noticed, wouldn’t even have thought to watch for it. But instead he only healed me._

Magnus clearly never even tried to go through with taking his stele.

The thought that Magnus definitely had the opportunity, with Alec so very distracted and definitely not on the look-out for anyone going for his stele - much less Magnus who Alec has trusted with an almost terrifying ease ever since they met - but the warlock clearly never even trying to go through with it...

Alec breathes out.

Because, that’s something at least. The knowledge that there is at least one person who wasn’t so very readily willing to go behind Alec’s back. Or rather, it’s _everything_ , if he is entirely honest with himself.

Although… _How come the only person who is turning out to be everything I thought him to be – and so so much more – is the supposedly dastardly warlock who I met just a few weeks ago, while everyone else around me is falling so very short of my expectations._

And, by the angel, where does all of this leave Alec? What is he supposed to make of all of this?

Because, he’s known for a long time that he can’t necessarily trust the Clave to put the lives of innocents above all else, much less above their own power games. However, their willingness to go against their own laws whenever it suits them seems to be getting ever-worse lately. For all that he is beholden to the Clave, he also knows he cannot trust them to put the peace in his city above their own interests, whatever those may be.

So, if he can’t trust the Clave, and he also can’t trust his parents or anything they’ve taught him over the years due to their history and their many lies and their hypocrisy and cowardice. And now he can’t even trust Izzy or Jace to be on his side, or even just to not stab him in the back, then… _How am I supposed to trust anyone at all?_

Alec breathes through the pain squeezing his heart. He can’t think about that right now. He has far more pressing things to take care of.

Because, on top of everything else? Alec isn’t the only one who heard what Izzy and Jace were planning to do. Lydia might have been tactful enough to wait outside in the hall, same for the Shadowhunters from his escort team, but with Alec not bothering to close the door behind him, there is simply no way they didn’t hear everything that was just revealed to him.

Which means there are witnesses for Izzy and Jace’s intended infractions, the plans of betrayal and intended treason. Too many people know. Which means word of their plans will inevitably reach the Clave, which will then lead to an inquiry. And, damnit all, who knows how badly that might end.

How could his siblings be so incredibly stupid? To discuss their plans out in the open like that, so convinced of their own righteousness and infallibility they seem to have forgotten that the Clave has no mercy for those who act on or even so much as plan treason.

There is only one punishment for traitors. Namely, deruning. Sometimes followed by execution, sometimes just by leaving the suddenly defenseless nephilim to struggle in the mundane world.

And no matter how angry he is at his siblings, no matter how utterly furious he is, how endlessly disappointed, letting them be deruned isn’t something he can even risk happening to either of them.

Which means that for all his anger and desperate disappointment in Izzy and Jace, Alec’s mind is already circling around how he’ll manage to protect them from the consequences of crimes they were only prevented from committing by pure chance.

So, it’s yet another – rather catastrophic – mess for Alec to deal with.

_Because there definitely weren’t enough of those already._

His mind whirls, and there is only one possible solution his brain is coming up with right now, can think of only one thing he can do to potentially make all of this better. The only option he can see is for him to play all of his cards, right now, put all he has on the table, and then let the chips fall where they may, hoping things might turn out in a way he can then work on fixing once more.

He has to be quick, can’t wait for the news of his siblings’ intended betrayal to reach Alicante, knows he won’t be given the chance to somehow make up for it afterwards, can’t hope that he’ll still somehow manage to protect his family from their own messes if he waits that long. No, once this gets out, once the Clave hears of Izzy and Jace’s plans, the Lightwood name will lose whatever has remained of its standing in Idris and Alec will have no leverage left to protect his siblings with.

So, he needs leverage before it ever comes to that.

If he manages to restore the Lightwood name before Izzy and Jace’s actions become widely known, if he manages to make their family into the same political heavy-weight as it once was, then the protective umbrella of the Lightwood name might just be enough to protect his siblings from the consequences definitely coming for them.

It’s the only thing he can think of, the only thing that might give him a chance to protect his family. So, that’s what Alec is going to do. The return of the Mortal Cup by his hand in order to elevate his family’s standing within Idris to the point where – even once today’s events become common knowledge – going after any Lightwood will be seen as a political faux-pas of the sort which none of the so powerhungry Clave members will ever want to take upon themselves.

He is out of other options.

So, just as their group finally reaches the ops center, Alec glances at Lydia. “Call the Inquisitor. Tell her we need an emergency portal to Alicante from within the Institute.”

She watches him for a moment, her eyes sharp and assessing, and then asks entirely straightforward, though with her voice lowered in a way that makes it impossible for anyone to overhear, “We are handing over the Mortal Cup?”

“Yes,” Alec nods. “Though if at all possible I’d avoid mentioning that in case someone intercepts the message.” Because the last thing they need is some desperate attempt by Valentine or some other faction trying to forcibly take the Cup just as they try to return it to Idris.

She nods, conceding the point, and without another word disappearing down the hall towards the Head of the Institute’s office.

Alec glances at the four Shadowhunters around him, the ones who had been on his team for Meliorn’s transport, the ones who heard everything and know that Alec has the Mortal Cup, the ones who know about Izzy and Jace’s planned betrayal. The ones who know just how vulnerable the Mortal Cup is going to be while Alec and Lydia take it to Alicante.

He knows he has to move quickly. If he wants to be sure to stay ahead of anyone potentially getting word out – in the form of simple gossip or of intentional passing on of information – he needs to move the Cup now. As in, right now.

The time window is already closing, too many people suddenly in-the-know.

He motions at the team around him to follow him, in no way intending to get a new team together for this, neither has the time to do so, nor wants to risk giving any of them the time to blab this information to anyone else at the Institute before the Cup is safely back in Idris.

And he absolutely abhors that he feels like he can’t trust a single person around him, like everyone might turn out to be a traitor. Because if even Izzy and Jace can’t be trusted not to betray him, how is he supposed to trust anyone at all?

Usually, he wouldn’t even think about going on such a high-profile mission without his parabatai at his side and his sister to watch his back. But as it turns out, in this case, his siblings would be the ones he’d have to guard himself against.

Maybe he shouldn’t have left two of them behind to guard the door to the room his siblings are in, honestly can’t care about Izzy and Jace quite likely deciding to ignore his orders anyway, guards in front of the door or not. They were planning to attack the prisoner transport. Apparently they have no compunctions about attacking their own.

_Angel, what happened to the two of them while I wasn’t looking._

He breathes out painfully. He used to count himself lucky for having two people he could always absolutely trust to be unequivocally on his side, to never go behind his back, to never betray him.

Turns out he doesn’t. He doesn’t even have one.

 _Quite the turnaround, isn’t it?_ he thinks darkly amused, even as he strides across the room towards the raised area to the side of the ops center, towards where his safe is located.

Just as Alec and his group reach his safe on the other side of the ops center, Lydia reappears as well. “The portal is already cast,” she announces. “Inquisitor Herondale was less than amused at the request, especially since I refused to give her a reason. But she will be there with a full contingent of guards.”

Alec nods. That’s all they need. Someone there to hand the Cup to, someone who he is as reasonably certain as he could be to never willingly betray the Clave to Valentine. The Inquisitor is the best choice he has right now.

There is no time to weed out any traitors, to make sure that none of the people present will end up going after the Cup. But at this point, there are too many people who know about the location of the Mortal Cup, too many sources for the wrong people to hear it from.

It’s now or never for transporting the Cup. Now when no one who so recently found out about it had any time to pass on the information, much less to make any sort of plan. Speed and unpredictability is the name of the game, keep all their moves entirely unpredictable – which is at least rather easy at the moment, seeing they themselves are making things up as they go – and move too quickly for anyone else to catch up.

Alec calmly opens his safe, fully on alert as he pulls out the card with the Cup, and then they are moving again. The four Shadowhunters with him have clearly realized what’s happening, falling into a simple formation around him and Lydia, nothing too obvious, nothing too harsh, but still putting them just in the right positions to cover Lydia and Alec’s blinds spots, ready to step in the way of anyone who might try to stop them.

It’s a little excessive, seeing as they are still very much in their Institute.

But – as much as everyone at the Institute has done their best to ignore it for simple peace of mind – everyone has still been somewhat aware that there must be someone amongst them who is feeding Valentine information. Not to even mention that his team just overheard two of the more prestigious Shadowhunters at their Institute openly declare they were planning to steal the Cup, to betray their own.

None of them wants to be the one to lose the Mortal Cup just because they thought themselves a little too safe within the walls of their Institute. Not if they can help it.

He also doesn’t let himself consider just how easily the Shadowhunters around him are taking their cues from him, instinctual in their reactions, moving so very fluidly with him, reacting to his every – unspoken – order. Despite the fact that Lydia is the de facto Head of the Institute at the moment.

They reach the portal room and with just a single glance at Alec – likely to make sure his plan hasn’t changed – two of the team are already stepping through, fluidly, no pause in their step as they disappear, Alec and Lydia follow together, knowing the last two will be right behind them.

They are greeted by Imogen Herondale and a contingent of eight guards spread out in a half-circle behind her.

“Ms. Branwell, Mr. Lightwood,” she immediately greets them, tone sharp. “We spoke barely fifteen minutes ago. What is this about?”

“Inquisitor Herondale,” Alec greets back, stepping forward and pulling the card from inside his jacket. “We thought it best to be as expedient as we could be about this. We have come to return the Mortal Cup to Idris.”

She blinks at him, then at the tarot card Alec is currently presenting to her, for once looking honestly stunned, even as a soft murmur runs through the guards spread out in the room around them.

+++

By the end of the day, the Cup has been returned to its original form by some truly ancient Shadowhunter who apparently shares that talent of turning things into paintings that Clary and her mother have.

Oh, and Alec has been made Head of the New York Institute, no investigations of any sort pending, not for the failed prisoner transport or for keeping the Cup’s location a secret for so long.

If he is being honest, he can admit that things went much better than he thought they would. Sure, he’d hoped that returning the Cup would make the Clave look on his and his siblings’ recent screw-ups a little more favorably. At best he had hoped said favor might extend to the Lightwood family’s standing in general and thereby give him a better chance at protecting his siblings from the very real consequences coming their way in the near future.

He however hadn’t expected to be made the sole Head of his Institute, hadn’t expected his slate to be entirely wiped clean, hadn’t expected the Clave to immediately start lauding him as some sort of leading-by-example Shadowhunter icon for ‘selflessly’ having returned the Mortal Cup, one of their most sacred artifacts that had been lost for so many years.

It’s all a little too… glittery, too pompous, too grandiose for his taste, especially since he doesn’t feel like he really did anything that deserves this sort of adulation. It’s not like there was any sort of real danger involved in retrieving the Cup from a mundane police station, no matter how ridiculously, over-the-top-complicated Jace and Clary made it with ‘plan’ of sneaking past the officers. Even more so because his decision to return the Mortal Cup right now was anything _but_ selfless, was purely for the sake of protecting his Institute from potential attacks of those trying to get at the Cup and about the political boon it would give the Lightwood name, to better help him protect his siblings. Nothing about giving back the Cup right now was selfless.

He is even rather certain that most of the Clave officials are more than aware of that fact. It doesn’t seem to be stopping them from doing their very best to make it seem as such.

Honestly, Alec would have very much preferred if he himself was never brought into direct connection with the return of the Mortal Cup at all, at least not officially. It had been about his family, the Lightwood name, not about himself.

But when he had been about to speak up, frowning darkly and less-than-enthused about the spectacle everyone was making, a single weighty glance from the Inquisitor and the simple but oh-so-heavily-warning comment of ‘It’s for morale, Mr. Lightwood.’ had stopped him.

Which… actually makes sense. Rewarding ‘selfless’ actions – even if they only appear as such – really is the best way to bolster morale amongst Shadowhunters, even more so if there is some sort of actual reward like a promotion to Head of an Institute attached to it. Never mind that that position had been Alec’s for years already, even if only unofficially so, and only the Clave’s recent power games having removed his family from said position.

Thinking about it now, Alec actually has to give it to the Clave. Them ‘giving’ the New York Institute to Alec is a rather neat way of solving quite a number of problems at once, all the while making them seem oh-so-magnanimous at the same time.

With Alec being lauded for following the ‘true Shadowhunter way’, the Clave’s recent decision to take the Head position from his family had every chance of starting quite a bit of discontent amongst their ranks. They couldn’t possibly give the Institute to anyone else to lead without raising far too many questions about the political motivations behind their decisions. But they also rather clearly don’t want his parents in charge of New York Institute, the city where Valentine seems to have set up camp in.

Thus, magnanimously giving him the position of Head of the Institute he was always supposed to lead anyway, rather smoothly making up for the insult of having removed the Lightwood family from their position in New York in the first place, suddenly acting like Lydia was never intended as anything but an interim position, like they never threatened to permanently remove the Lightwoods from New York entirely, but also making his ‘promotion’ seem like a reward for his recent actions at the same time, really does make for a nice solution of all their problems on their end. Add to that the fact that Lydia and Alec are engaged – news of which seems to have reached Idris as well, despite the fact that they have yet to officially announce their engagement – the Clave clearly thinks themselves quite clever in effectively giving the Institute to two old Shadowhunter lines at the same time.

A Lightwood in charge and a Branwell to keep an eye on things.

So, yeah, thinking about it now, all of this does make sense from the Clave’s end, and maybe Alec would have even anticipated this particular outcome, if only he’d have had a little more time – or, any time at all, really – to consider the consequences of returning the Cup to Idris without any sort of obvious demands or agenda.

Then again, despite the whole adulation thing he could honestly do without, he also got exactly what he came for, if not more. Namely the Lightwood name’s return to its previous glory, his family once more being lauded as a shining beacon of Shadowhunter greatness. Like the past few weeks never happened.

So, everything worked out great, better than he hoped it might, his lifelong dream of running the Institute so unexpectedly coming true, something he’s worked towards for years, Alec suddenly the official Head of the New York Institute.

The thing is just… Looking around himself, it’s rather crushing to realize that Alec has no one to celebrate any of it with.

Sure, his mother is practically glowing in smug satisfaction where she is standing off to the side, being congratulated by quite a number of Clave members, his father beside her, all self-righteous vindication at their family name once more being returned to its previous standing. Like they themselves did anything at all to contribute to today’s victory, like they themselves weren’t the reason the Lightwood name ever suffered in the first place. No, Alec has no interest in celebrating with them, certainly hasn’t forgotten the lies, the deceit, much less their intent to marry him off, to trade in his future happiness to make up for their own failings while never admitting as much.

Then there is Max, standing beside Alec, all delightedly enthused at the spectacle, just honestly happy for him. Which is nice. But his brother is also far too young for Alec to even attempt to explain to him why he himself isn’t actually nearly as happy right now as he seemingly should be, the price he has paid for today’s success without getting a say in the matter.

Of course, there is also Lydia… But she knows everything that’s going on, knows about his siblings’ betrayal and about his parents’ deceit, knows that Alec isn’t actually happy with how things went, how – while glad to have the Institute once more under his command – this also isn’t how he imagined it would go.

Which isn’t even touching upon the mess that is their engagement and Alec now being Head of the Institute without them actually having to get married in order to gain the position as they had originally planned. There is something in Lydia’s eyes as she glances at him, something that tells him she is thinking along similar lines and that they are definitely going to have to talk soon.

Then, there are his sister and parabatai, both of them not actually present, the two of them still at the Institute, likely not even aware of anything that happened since their confrontation just a few hours ago, the first people he’d usually want to share this sort of success with, fulfilling one of his lifelong dreams. But for all that Alec doesn’t really fell like celebrating right now, he also doesn’t want to spend the rest of today in the presence of the two people who have hurt him more than anyone else on this planet could ever hope to. Because he’d been wide open to the unexpectedness of their betrayal, never thought he’d have to guard himself against them.

The thought of being around them right now has something inside of him almost flinching away, curling in on itself, away from the idea of being around Izzy or Jace, as though to protect itself from them, from potentially getting hurt further, from how easily and carelessly they might add to the pain they have already caused him.

Never mind that – with him now officially in charge of the New York Institute – reporting and punishing his siblings for their recent actions is suddenly on him, entirely his responsibility to decide how to handle his siblings’ plan for treason. At least if he doesn’t want the Clave to get itself involved if he is too lenient with them.

Because, honestly, screw his life.

If only he’d never heard his siblings talking about what they had been planning to do, about their failed plans, if only he never found out, if only he didn’t know they ever planned to betray him and everything they should stand for at all.

And a small part of him wonders – almost hopefully, a quiet sort of desperate hope in his chest – whether that might not be the reason why Magnus, despite his apparent unwillingness to go along with Izzy and Jace’s plans, still never told Alec about it either. All the while preempting their betrayal by neither giving them Alec’s stele to steal from the safe with, nor giving them the chance to free Meliorn by way of ambushing Alec’s team.

Maybe…

Maybe the reason Magnus didn’t tell him, wasn’t only because it would have given away the warlock’s own involvement in Meliorn’s escape, but maybe because he also didn’t want Alec to ever have to go through the pain of finding himself betrayed by those closest to him.

He doesn’t know whether that thought – the wish that maybe, for once, someone might have been trying to protect _him_ instead – isn’t pure naivety, his mind latching on to something that might make today’s events hurt the slightest bit less. However… It’s not like the thought is entirely unreasonable. Magnus had been approached by Izzy and Jace about his help, only for him to then seek out Alec – to talk to him, to heal him, to say his goodbyes – before the warlock went on to promptly void both of Izzy and Jace’s plans within mere hours of being told about them, refusing to steal Alec’s stele and freeing Meliorn before his siblings ever got the chance to. All of it, without ever telling Alec that Izzy and Jace had planned anything of the sort.

That does seem a little much to be simple coincidence… Doesn’t it?

So, when Alec finally leaves Alicante, glad to be leaving the celebrations behind, as he steps back through the portal, once more returns to the New York Institute that is now his to lead, he finds himself pausing, brow furrowed, deep in thought.

A moment, two.

Before he is turning, quickly making his way through the ops center, through the doors leading outside, activates his speed rune as soon as he is outside, to make it to Brooklyn just that little bit faster.

And, yes, it might be a little pathetic that even in a moment of personal victory, of fulfilling a lifelong dream of his, he has nowhere better to go than right back to the warlock Alec promised himself mere hours ago that he would do his utter best not to drag into his personal issues again. But, with everything that happened after they talked just this morning, Alec simply can’t help himself.

Because, if nothing else, going along with Izzy and Jace’s plans, letting them do the dirty work, would certainly have been the easier, the safer way for Magnus to take instead of taking the risk of being discovered while helping Meliorn escape. But he didn’t. And the only thing that stood in his way of going along with those plans, had been the inherent betrayal of Alec’s trust.

So, he _needs_ to know. Needs to know Magnus’ intent and how much of it was for Alec’s sake and even if it turns out that the warlock’s decisions weren’t about Alec at all, he still can’t think of another place in this entire city where he simply doesn’t have to worry about being used, about his trust being abused, about having to protect himself from every angle.

He feels a sardonic smile pulling at his lips, pain in his heart.

Because, what does it say about Alec and those supposedly closest to him that it’s the home of a warlock he met barely weeks ago where Alec suddenly feels most secure, the place he is most certain he won’t be hurt again. How absurd that Magnus’ loft is the place Alec suddenly equates with safety, in direct contrast to the Institute that has always been his home.

He doesn’t let himself think about that, instead focuses on the thoughts circling through his head.

 _Maybe…,_ he thinks. _Maybe I can just ask Magnus, straightforwardly ask him what happened, why he did what he did, why he didn’t tell me._ He breathes out, heart so very heavy from today’s revelations, while the thought of Magnus maybe having done everything in his power to spare Alec the pain of finding out about his siblings’ intended betrayal is the only bearable, slightly brighter spot for him to focus on right now. _And maybe, if I’m lucky, maybe it even turns out there might still be one person left for me to trust after all._

_Maybe._

And as his steps slow, as he finally comes to a stop in front of Magnus' building, as he pauses to glance up at the warmly illuminated windows of the warlock's apartment, Alec just can't help but let himself hold on to that tiny bit of hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, that's a lot of... weirdly hopeful angst? Also, an absolute monster of a chapter, but I didn't want to leave you hanging in wondering how things were going to work out on Alec's end. I hope the various political machinations were believable (on Alec's end and on the Clave's end)... And next chapter will finally be the Malec fluff I've been promising ever since I started this.
> 
> As always, would love to know what you think :D
> 
> And thanks so much for all your wonderful comments and kudos!


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